The Ghost Wolf
by redheadvampiress
Summary: Van Helsing, XMen, LXG crossover. If you think you know the story of Van Helsing, think again! Same plot as the movie, but like you've never seen it before! MinaXJekyll, AnnaXVan Helsing, Kurt WagnerXOC. Complete.
1. Prologue

**I'm sure everyone is wondering why I titled this story the title of something else when this is a Van Helsing fic. This is only the prologue, and none of this is my original work. It may be familiar to anyone who has seen the movie. **

_Transylvania: 1899_

There was no doubt in any of the villagers' minds that it was a night for murder. The sky had clouded over so that the moon was only visible at odd moments when there was a clearing that passed over it. There was promise of a storm in the lightening that flashed every so often, and the thunder that accompanied it. They were sick and tired of their little village being terrorized by the strange events that had occurred in the castle that overlooked it, Castle Frankenstein, so now they were out for revenge, the taste of blood on everyone's lips.

They certainly were a fearsome sight. Several score strong, most of them were grown men and boys, however, there were a few women scattered amongst them. Many were carrying torches, and in the middle of the crowd, a battering ram made of a fallen tree trunk was pushed. They were led, yelling and screaming obscenities up the hill by a tall, thin man with filthy white hair, a scraggly beard and discolored teeth, dressed all in black.

A fearsome bolt of lightening flashed.

From inside Castle Frankenstein, a heart-wrenching moan issued from the monstrous form lying strapped to the table. The young man standing next to it pranced ecstatically.

"It's alive. It's alive! IT'S ALIIIIIIIIIVVE!"

Dr. Victor Frankenstein, in his vast laboratory, had discovered an alternate way to create life.

But noises from outside tore him away from his creation. He ran to the large window to view the scene below, one that chilled the blood in his veins.

The local peasants had finally cracked. They were at the door, trying to break it down with their battering ram. One of the men looked up as it began to rain, and saw Frankenstein's terrified form silhouetted in the window above them.

"There he is!" he yelled. Turning back to his comrades he yelled, "Hit it again!"

Back in the castle, Frankenstein was slowly backing away from the window. He knew that soon, they would be inside, and if they caught him, they would certainly kill him, and his creation.

He had to get out of there, and fast, but as he turned around to begin to make his escape, he nearly ran into the tall, black-cloaked figure standing behind him.

"Success!" it bellowed, and Frankenstein stumbled off to the side to catch his breath.

"Count," he gasped. "It's just you."

Count Dracula, Frankenstein's employer, walked to the window. "I was beginning to lose faith, Victor." His deep brown eyes took in the view below. "A pity your moment of triumph is being spoiled over a little thing like grave robbery."

How the Count could refer to those murderers as grave robbers confused, even shocked Frankenstein a little, but he didn't have time to argue. He needed to protect himself, and his creation.

"Yes," he agreed absent-mindedly, running from the window to the trunk where he kept his things. "I must escape this place!"

But the Count's voice boomed out at him, seeming to come from everywhere.

"Where are you going to run, Victor? Your…peculiar experiments have made you unwelcome in most of the civilized world."

"I will take him away!" said Frankenstein, hurriedly stuffing things into his trunk, a few books, a shirt. "Far away! Where no one will ever find him!"

"Oh no, Victor. The time has come for me to take command of him."

The Count was pacing along the mantelpiece of the massive fireplace. The doctor stopped packing and turned around to look at his master. What was he talking about?

"What are you saying?" he asked uncertainly. With Dracula, you had to choose your words wisely. His temper was very hard to predict. Sometimes you would be lucky, and he would be in a good mood. Other times, the wrong move would be your last.

Tonight, Frankenstein was not so lucky. The Count vanished from his perch on the mantelpiece and slammed the lid of the trunk behind him, scaring the doctor out of his wits.

"Why do you think I brought you here? Gave you this castle? Equipped your laboratory?"

His voice was enough to frighten anyone to death, and his eyes were livid with rage. Frankenstein stumbled over his words, trying not to make him any angrier than he was already.

"You…you said…you said you believed in my work…" He stopped. What did he say now?

The other man smiled, his rage gone as suddenly as it had come.

"And I do. But," he said as he turned away and ran his eyes over the complicated machinery before him, the machine that Frankenstein had used to give life to his creature, who was still lying strapped to his table, moaning softly every now and then. "Now that it is, as you yourself have said…a triumph of science over God!" Sparks flew from the machine as he roared the last word. He turned back to the doctor. "It must now serve my purpose."

Frankenstein rose, a mixture of hatred and uncertainty on his face. His eyes glared at Dracula as he growled, "What purpose?"

Below the frightened doctor and his menacing employer, the peasants were making progress. Their battering ram had finally broken through the doors of the wall surrounding the castle, and they poured in like blood from a wound. They headed for the great doors, certain of their victory.

"Good God!" gasped Frankenstein upon hearing Dracula's plans for his creation. "I would kill myself before helping in such a task!"

He backed into his creation, who growled at being jostled.

"Feel free, I don't actually need you anymore, Victor," said the Count, walking around to the other side of the creature. "I just need him. He is the Key."

Tenderly, like a father to his son, Frankenstein put his hand on the creature's forehead. "I could never allow him to be used for such evil."

The Count smiled. "I could." He walked around the creature's head and towards Frankenstein. "In fact, my brides are insisting upon it."

The doctor backed away from his employer, but the Count did not stop moving. He continued advancing upon the frightened man, and then the young doctor realized what was happening. His heart pounded in sheer horror, and his eye caught a movement in the shadows. For a moment, there was a small ray of hope.

"Igor!" he cried to the shadow. "Help me!"

"You have been so kind to me, Doctor," the decrepit hunchback said in a voice like an old wooden board when pressure is put on it. "Caring, thoughtful, but _he _pays me."

With no help from any outside source, Frankenstein panicked, and began to back up faster, even though he knew it was hopeless. Eventually, he would run into a wall, and then nothing could save him.

Except…

When he finally did run into a wall, he was relieved to find that he'd backed into the side of the mantelpiece, where a sword was kept on display. Though he had no idea how to use it, he pulled it from its niche in the wall and held it out in front of him, its point right against the Count's heart.

"Stay back!" he yelled, trying to make his voice sound as fierce as possible, though he knew his eyes betrayed him.

Dracula however, was not fazed in the slightest.

"You can't kill me, Victor," he warned, and then impaled himself, burying the sword to its hilt.

"I'm already dead."

Frankenstein stared in horror at the hilt of the sword, cold, black blood pouring over his hands. He would have screamed, but his throat was too tight to make a sound.

In short, he was terrified.

He knew he was dead even before the Count grabbed him by the front of his lab coat and pulled him away from the wall. His jaws opened inhumanely wide, and his teeth, which normally looked like the set one would find on a normal human being, grew long and vicious, and horribly, terrifyingly, sharp.

Though Frankenstein had known what the Count was, he'd never had the displeasure of actually having to see exactly how much of a monster he was, until now.

He screamed.

He had always been a quiet, introverted sort of man, and didn't like exposing himself in any way, either in anger or fear, or even love, but none of that mattered now. There were no barriers in his mind to protect him now, and he filled his lungs with air, and let out a scream that should have only been uttered by the souls of the damned in Hell.

The Count paused for a moment, as if relishing the sound of that scream, and then plunged his fangs into the helpless doctor's neck. Frankenstein's scream died to a gurgle, and he pulled the sword from his adversary's chest. He held it over his head, as though he planned to chop Dracula's head off, but he was beginning to weaken, and the sword slipped from his sweaty fingers. Gradually, his whole body went limp as his life drained away. Finally, Dracula threw his victim's corpse from him into a heap on the floor. With that out of the way, he advanced to the bed where the creature lay, frowning.

There was nothing there. The thick leather belts that had strapped him down were broken and the bed was empty. The vampire's eyes flicked quickly back and forth across the laboratory, looking for where the creature might have gone, but he didn't see much, because one of the machines was hefted into the air and thrown at him, knocking him backwards into the fire. While he was enveloped in flames, the creature that had thrown the machine bent down and lifted Dr. Frankenstein's lifeless body in its arms, following the retreating shadow of the Count's servant Igor.

The peasants were sure they were going to reach their goal, to murder Dr. Frankenstein and whatever diabolical thing he was doing up there in his castle. But, as the man with the filthy white hair turned to look at the moon, he saw two figures emerge from a side door, and then a voice howled, "Dr. Frankenstein!"

"Look!" he shouted, and everyone stopped in their tracks. "It's headed for the windmill! Come on!"

En masse, they raced after the creature.

Back inside the laboratory, Dracula emerged from the massive fireplace that he had been knocked into, badly burned but alive. With a flap of his coat, he put out the flames that were engulfing his body. Flesh began to repair itself, and his hair grew back exactly the way hit had been before he had been set on fire. But his eyes burned with the same intensity as flames that had been ravaging him moments before. He was not going to let the prize get away, not now that they had come so close.

His shadow on the wall began to grow, and a pair of wings sprouted out of its back.

The creature reached the windmill with the enraged mob hard on its heels. It had no idea why these people were after it, or what it had done to make them so angry, but it knew they meant it and its father harm, and it had to get away from them as soon as possible. So when it reached the windmill door, it drew the bar across it, understanding that this was how you locked a door, and that locked doors kept out bad things. Breathing heavily, it began to walk up the stairs, hardly aware of the bottles it was smashing with every step.

"Burn it!" the man with the white hair yelled, not to be stopped by a locked door. They would get what they came for, no matter the cost. Something would die tonight; they would see it happen. "Burn it down!"

No one needed any extra encouragement. The torches they had been carrying began to fly through the air, some only bouncing off the outside, some landing on the roof, and some actually making it inside through holes in the roof. The building exploded into flames, because the stuff in the bottles was absinthe, and the creature was smashing these bottles left and right, making everything that was soaked in the absinthe immediately catch fire. But, though the flames were sprouting up all around it, it continued on, up to the very top of the windmill. When it had reached its goal, it looked down at the mob, staring down at all the hatred and fear that was written on every person's face. With a single word, he silenced them.

"Why?"

The noise that came from the creature's mouth was so eerily inhuman that it sent chills down everyone's back. Yet, somewhere in the unearthly shriek, there was deep sorrow and grief, things only felt by the deepest of human hearts. It was this knowledge that made one old woman in the crowd faint dead away.

Before they could ponder much longer on the how the monster could somehow be so human, a loud cry from the castle made them all turn. Four huge, batlike shapes rose from the castle and began to fly rapidly towards them.

"Vampires!" cried someone in the crowd, and pandemonium ensued.

"Run for your lives!" cried someone else, and the mob, which had been a murderous mass seething with fury moments before, scattered like roaches at the striking of a match. On the top of the windmill, the creature watched them go, satisfied that it had made them go away. It did not understand that it was their fear of the vampires that had made them run, screaming in terror. It looked down at the body of Dr. Frankenstein in its arms, tears leaking out of its eyes.

"Father," it sobbed, then raised its head and howled to the sky, even as the floor gave out beneath it and both the creature and Frankenstein disappeared in flames.

The four batlike shapes had no interest in the terrified crowd that was fleeing below them. As Dracula and his three brides landed, the windmill collapsed into a twisted pile of straw and wood, burning to the ground before the vampire's eyes. As his brides wailed and clung to each other in despair, Dracula only gazed on, knowing that the chances for his plans had been destroyed forever...

** In case anyone hasn't guessed, this is the black-and -white opening to the movie Van Helsing. I figured it would be a great way was to sort of set the stage for the story, to sort of give the audience an idea of what the main characters will be facing, and why they have been called together in the first place. Not the greatest way to begin a story, but it gets better, I promise! Do not give up on me!**


	2. Chapter 1: Judgment

**Now the real stuff begins. Disclaimer: I only own Gabriel Lucian, the League members belong to various other authers who are all all dead now. At least I think they are. I don't own Van Helsing or Karl, either. Warning: there is some rather graphic violence in this chapter, so descretion is advised.**

_New York City__: One year later _

For nearly five years, I have prowled the rooftops of New York City, my horribly deformed face too gruesome for any respectable man, woman or child to behold. I am scarred, physically and emotionally. All my life I have lived without love, without care, without innocence and now, at eighteen years old, I am a hardened, ruthless killer. I seek revenge on those who make my life miserable from day to day, these wretched humans who stare at me, who look into my golden eyes and suddenly see Judgment, payment for all those people they've walked past, all those pleas for help they ignored. Karma, the Indians call it. I am bad karma.

I do not remember how old I was when my parents died. I know that I was very young, and poor too, with no other family or connections, because I went to a charity orphanage for girls who had nowhere else to go. Because of my small size and scarred face, the other girls laughed at me, insulted me and excluded me from their games. I endured this for years, until I could take no more. At thirteen years old, I lost control.

Though my parents died when I was very young, I know how, because it changed my whole life. They were mauled to death and eaten by a wolf. Not just any wolf, but a werewolf. I know, because I watched them die. When it was finished with them, it came for me. My face still bears the scars from its claws, and one of my legs is marred from its bite. It never did finish me off, because several of the neighbors heard the noise and shot it many times before it ran away and vanished into the bowels of the city. Of course they did not kill it, because ordinary bullets cannot kill a werewolf, but at least they managed to drive it off.

I survived the attack, but at a price. My face and leg are horribly scarred, my eyes turned yellow, and all my hair fell out only to grow back white as snow. My teeth sharpened and my skin paled until it was as white as my hair. The hair on my arms and legs is white as well, and if I grow my nails out, they end in points, like claws. Most of the time however, they break off when I'm out on the rooftops.

Growing up, I was usually able to control my changings. For the first year, I was bound by the changing of the moon, and I changed with it. So, whenever the full moon came, I would creep out of my dormitory and into the grounds where I would change and go off in search of rabbits or something to slake my lust for blood. I never fed on humans in those early years, either because I didn't want to or because I was only a cub and didn't need it. It is only when a werewolf fully matures that they need human blood for their survival. I managed to keep my curse from my schoolmates, though many times I was tempted to reveal myself. I knew I couldn't. I was too young and small to care for myself.

After that first year, I discovered I could change at will, and the moon no longer held her sway. It became much easier to control my lust for blood as well, though I still needed it to survive. My instincts told me that much. While it was easier to control my bloodlust, I found I could not go very long without it, maybe only a week or so.

At first, I thought with horror that I would be discovered, but I never was, and as I got older, I grew more and more confident that I could go through life keeping my identity a secret.

I could not have been more wrong.

One night, shortly after my thirteenth birthday, I found my theory to be false. I'm still not quite sure what it was that set me off. I know the girls had been making fun of me, splashing me with water from their wash basins, calling me scar-face and witch-child and a whole bunch of nasty names, and I think I just snapped. I remembered my rage building up inside me, and the next thing I knew, my bones were popping and reshaping, hair was prickling and growing all over my body, my nose and mouth were lengthening. I remember their screams; oh, how it was music to my ears as my powerful jaws closed on their scrawny bodies, their blood sweet juice on my tongue. Howling a symphony of murder, I went from one to the next, tearing them open and gorging myself on their blood.

I left no one alive.

After that, I disappeared from all record. No one ever saw me in the school again, nor anywhere in the area surrounding it. No one really bothered to look for me. When the police came, they figured that the dorm had been attacked by some sort of animal, and that I had been carried off. I was an orphan after all. I had no family, no friends, no one looking for me, so they just left it at that. My real story they will never know.

What really happened to me was my recognition that I was something more powerful, more beautiful than any of the other girls. In my anger, I realized that, because I possessed this gift, this mutation, if you'd like to call it, I was something more than the ordinary orphan girls I went to school with. Somehow…I was _better_ than them. I had killed them in my rage, and drank their blood, and I realized the joy and pleasure of feeding on humans. As I raced toward New York City, their young blood rushing into my veins, I knew they would torment me no longer. I was free, the master of my own fate. It was in that moment that I changed my name, from plain Jane Cole to Gabriel Lucian, something grand and as opposite as those two angels of Heaven and Hell, something that would give me a reason to be remembered.

And these past five years, I've haunted streets, rooftops, and alleyways of New York City. The press has kindly coined me "The Ghost Wolf," for my fur is white, pure white as the snow and the hair on my head. My eyes are golden yellow, burning with the flames of vengeance. But I am no ghost. I am real, as real as the hands that now hold this book. Plenty of people have seen me in the night, but there are few who live to tell the tale. There is not a soul in New York that has not seen pictures of the gruesome remains I leave behind. My howl, often heard on many a night when children huddle under their blankets in the nursery and call out to nurses just as afraid as they are, is said to chill the very blood in your veins. Many a resident is afraid to go outside when they hear my howl. But it is most dangerous on the nights you don't hear my howl, because then you have no inclination of whether I'm out or not.

Some nights, I don't go out. Some nights I stay inside my abandoned apartment and sleep. I sleep in the daytime, and sometimes into the night too, when I'm especially tired after a particularly difficult hunt. And not always do I feed on human blood. Sometimes I kill a dog or a cat, sometimes mice or rats. I've even killed birds, but they provide little sustenance and no taste, so I don't do it very often.

There are few who have seen me in human form. They mostly describe me as "an angel, naked and perfectly formed, with hair as white as snow." It's true that I have a very nice figure, and it is true that I am usually naked, for the absence of clothes makes the change from human to wolf easier, and I don't constantly have to steal new clothes all the time. I do have a few clothes, but I wear them only in the daytime, usually to keep myself warm when I sleep.

Now, in all this time, I suppose you are wondering whatever happened to the werewolf that killed my parents. The truth is, New York City wasn't big enough for the both of us, so I hunted him down and killed him. The details of that hunt I will not relate here or now, for that is an adventure all its own. Perhaps that is a story for another time. Just know that, to my knowledge, I was the only werewolf in New York.

Though it was a lonely one, I had to admit it was a pretty good life. I was the scourge of the city; I had the whole of New York under my paw. No one was safe from me, no matter where they went. I could kill on one side of the city one night, then on the other the next. I stole food in the daytime, I stole lives at night. No one told me what to do or how to live. My clothes were little more than rags, my white hair a mass of wild, dirty tangles, and there was no one to laugh at me for my appearance. I had always been a free spirit, and this was the perfect way to live. No rules, no consequences, nothing. I lived life the way I wanted to, and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it.

Until one night, my life as it had been for five years, changed completely.

I had returned from a successful hunt (two police officers and their dog,) and I was feeling well fed and happy, when my sharp nose caught a smell that was not normally there. In fact, it was not normal anywhere, because I didn't recognize it at once. Sniffing more however, I found it was comprised of several different smells. Greasepaint. Gunpowder. Incense. A faint tang of blood. And something else too, something unlike anything I had ever smelled before, and it made the hair on the back of my neck all the way down to the base of my tail rise. I growled low in my throat. Something was not right. These scents were fresh, and they led to my apartment.

It was there, inside my apartment, that I saw them. Eight figures standing solemnly in a line. Seven of them were men, and the other was a woman. I snarled and jumped back. The unearthly scent I had smelled on the stairs was coming from her.

They say animals can sense the presence of ghosts, and that they can smell evil. I'm sure now that was I smelled on the woman was evil, and otherworldly. She just didn't smell…human.

The man next to her was dressed all in gray except for his black shoes and white shirt, and he looked at her with a mocking smile.

"Oh look. You repulse even dogs Mina."

I didn't like his voice. It was haughty, and carried a note of extremely high importance. Aristocrat, or very wealthy, probably.

"Shut up Dorian," the woman snapped, and then I saw her fangs. Four of her canines, two on either side of her incisors, were longer and sharper than the rest. I had been right: she wasn't human. I smelled the blood on her breath and I knew. She was what had haunted many a story told to us girls back at the orphanage: a creature that slept in a coffin by day and prowled by night, drinking the blood of innocent victims who fell under its hypnotic spell: a creature so powerful, so evil, that only a wooden stake driven through its heart would kill it. A monster known by many names, but one struck terror into the hearts of all the girls in the orphanage even more than the most horrific ghost story: vampire!

Though I'd always had my doubts, it didn't surprise me that if something like me could exist, then certainly a vampire could exist too. This woman was proof of that idea. I didn't have much time to reflect on it though, because one of them, an elderly man in a safari vest, pants and hat, stepped forward and began speaking to me.

"They call you The Ghost Wolf; I can see why."

His manner was light and friendly, but I distrusted them. These were not ordinary people. What did they want with me?

I continued to growl to show my distrust.

The man standing next to the one who had spoken to me leaned over and said, "Maybe we've picked the wrong time, Allan." The smell of the greasepaint was coming from him, and as I looked, I saw that his face was completely white, covered with the stuff. He was also wearing a pair of shaded pince-nez, indoors, at nighttime. Had I been in human form, I would have frowned. Why did he need sunglasses? Was he blind?

They were a very odd group indeed. The incense I had smelled was coming from a monk, the shortest one there. I could also smell his fear. He was trembling and sweating, clutching the sleeve of the man next to him, a tall, dark stranger with long, curly brown hair and a strong physique. He, like the elderly man, was not afraid. Though a wide-brimmed hat hid most of his face, I could feel his eyes looking coolly upon me, as though I were no more harmful than a common house dog.

It infuriated me that there was someone who was not afraid of me. It made what was left of my heart twist with fury, and twist my lips into a horrible mask of terror. My growl rumbled deeper in my chest, and I saw the little monk shudder. That, at least, brought a gleam to my eyes.

The old man was talking again.

"Well, Ghost Wolf, the world is in need of your services. If you agree to help us, President William McKinley will pardon you from all crimes you have committed against the American government and its citizens."

He stopped to hear my response. Though still in wolf form, there was no mistaking the sarcasm in my golden eyes. As if I could be bought for so small a price! Why should I help the very government who abandoned me after the death of my parents to the cruel whims of fate, and when I disappeared, made no effort to recover me? What did I owe them, they who had christened me Ghost Wolf and sent men out to kill me? And if I did offer them my help, whatever they needed of me, a pardon of all my crimes? Running from the police and picking them off one by one was half the fun. No, they needed to offer me more if they wanted my help.

And how was I supposed to know this wasn't a trap? These people could just be special agents sent to entice me with some phony offer and then capture me. I could not let that happen. I would never let myself be taken alive. I had to be on my guard with these people. I growled again.

"Allan," said a young, timid-looking man with flaming red hair and pale blue eyes. "I don't think that's going to work."

"She won't listen willingly," said the dark man, stepping forward and putting his hand inside his leather coat.

"Easy now, Van Helsing!" cried the man with the greasepainted face as both he and the elderly man grabbed his arms. In response to the threat, I snarled, showing my teeth this time, and snapped at the air with my jaws, just to let them know I wasn't going down without a fight. They all drew back, and the little monk actually ran behind the dark man next to him.

I knew I had to give them my opinion. But I could not do that in wolf form, for my vocal cords were unable to replicate the sounds made by the human voice. The hair on my body shrank back and disappeared, the hair on my head lengthened, my face shortened, my joints popped as the bones shrank and reshaped themselves. It ended with me leaning my head from one side to the other, the bones making horrible cracking sounds as I reset them. I stood before them, an eighteen-year-old girl with no clothes to speak of. I saw the men's eyes widen save for the old one, a man who had obviously seen this before. The vampire lady arched one thin eyebrow with a look of distain. A proper Englishwoman, no doubt. As for the dark one, Van Helsing, well, I couldn't see his eyes anyway, so I had no idea what his expression was.

I glowered at them with still golden eyes.

"And you think you can tempt me with such an offer?" I sniffed, turned around and walked away, hoping that, once they heard my reply, they would go away. "You're wasting your time."

I thought that had settled it. But, to my almost certain fury, I heard the old man's voice say, "Perhaps it would be easier to negotiate once you're dressed."

That was annoying. Hadn't I given them my answer?

Still not turning around I said, "You don't take no for an answer, do you?"

"I didn't say that. I asked for you to get dressed."

I then heard the grasepainted man say, "Of course, if you think you'd be more comfortable without them…"

Several voices chorused, "Shut up, Skinner!"

I chuckled. All right, I'd humor these freaks. I'd find out just what they wanted from me.

A few minutes later, I joined them in the main room of my apartment. Much to the greasepainted man's disappointment, I had on a pair of ragged black trousers and an equally ripped black shirt that I'd stolen a few years back and had already worn it worse for wear. I hadn't bothered to tame my hair; I'd just tied it back with a piece of string. The vampire lady was still turning up her nose at me, but at this point, I just ignored her. I'd never really cared what people thought of me, and I wasn't about to let some prissy Englishwoman's disgust affect me. I endured years of torment from mean girls who should have been on the streets. Simple looks from a pair of bright green eyes were not about to hurt me. My heart had hardened to the barbs of words long ago.

The group had seated themselves on the decaying furniture that lay disintegrating in what probably had been used as a parlor or a sitting room. With no other chairs left, I flopped onto the floor.

"Let's negotiate."

I saw the man in gray lean over once again to the vampire lady and whisper, "Lovely manners, hasn't she?"

I raised my eyebrows, but to my face he said, "Aren't you going to offer us something to drink?"

"I agree," put in the greasepainted man, rubbing his gloved hands together. "I could fancy a scotch right now."

I just looked at them. What did they think I was, a wine cellar? Scowling, I spread my arms in front of me.

"Does it look like I have anything to offer you? I'm not your servant."

A noise made me look to my left. The poor little monk, seated next to the red-haired man, was terrified. He was trembling and twisting his hands in his lap. I began to wonder when he was going to wet himself. The redhead was frightened, though he didn't show it, but his forehead was slicked with sweat. I could smell his fear as clearly as I could smell his sweat.

A soft laugh escaped my throat. There was nothing I liked more than scaring people.

"You can relax, Karl," said the old man. "She's in human form; she's completely harmless."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," growled the dark man, and he put his hand to his waist. I immediately bristled and snarled a warning, my eyes flashing. I was pleased to see them all jump, and the little monk did, in fact, wet himself.

The old man, who seemed to be the leader, or at least the spokesperson, held up his hand.

"No guns, Van Helsing. If we want to get anywhere, we'll have to do things her way. Right?"

He looked at me. I returned that look with a strange, half smile.

"Yeah. My way."

"We should start with introductions. My name is Allan Quatermain, and this is Captain Nemo." He pointed to a man with a thick, black beard, dark eyes and a blue turban who hadn't spoken yet. "This is Rodney Skinner." He pointed to the man with the greasepainted face, who tipped his hat to me.

"Charmed."

"He's invisible," said Quatermain.

I frowned. "No he's not. I can see him sitting there, right in front of me."

"Oh, but watch this," said Skinner, and he took his gloves off, holding up his hands, except that there were no hands, because I could see right through them.

Though convinced it was some sort of parlor trick, I raised my eyebrows.

"Impressive." Now I knew why he needed the greasepaint and pince-nez.

"Dr. Henry Jekyll."

The redhead with the ice blue eyes smiled shakily.

"Doctor," I said politely.

"He may look timid, but I would take care not to make him angry," said Quatermain warily.

I looked at Jekyll, sizing him up. He was skinny, and all but shaking in his boots at the sight of my golden eyes. It was hard to believe anything like this could be harmful when provoked.

"Really?" I said, looking at him. "Why is that?"

He fidgeted at my addressing him, and replied, "My alter ego's name is Edward Hyde. You'd not like to meet him."

"He's that unpleasant?"

"Oh, he's positively a monster," said the man in gray.

"He'd give you a run for your money," said Skinner.

"He'd tear you apart," said Jekyll quietly, as though he'd rather not think about it. "He's a beast."

I was having a hard time believing that was true. Unless his alter ego gave him amazing strength, there was no way he could tear me apart. Not with those hands I saw twitching on his knees.

"Sounds like fun," I said. Jekyll gave a weak smile, then winced. I caught the movement, and said, "What is it?"

"It's Hyde," he answered. "He wants to be let out. He says he wants to wring your neck."

I grinned flashing all my sharp teeth. "I'd like to see him try."

"Please, please! We'll have no fighting here!" said Quatermain. Jekyll winced again and muttered, "Shut up, Hyde." Quatermain continued with the introductions.

"The monk is Karl, and the man standing next to him is Abraham Van Helsing. They were both sent to us from a secret order in Rome."

"I see," I said, looking them up and down. "And what are their…special talents?"

"Karl has a vast knowledge of the mission we have been assigned, and Van Helsing is…" Quatermain paused, looking for help.

"I'm an assassin," said Van Helsing.

"A _special_ assassin," interjected Skinner. I turned to him.

"Don't you ever shut up?"

There was a silence, then he said, in a more solemn voice, "Only when asked to."

"Dorian Gray."

"How fitting," I said to the man in the gray suit. He gave me a nasty smile. I glared back.

"And Wilhelmina Harker. She's a vampire."

"Miss Harker," I said.

"Oh, Mrs.," she said quickly. "I'm a widow."

"I'm very sorry," I said, but I wasn't. I was just trying to be polite, though I remembered very little about manners.

"It's quite alright," she replied, as though it was nothing. "My husband's been dead for years."

_Or centuries,_ I thought to myself, but I didn't say anything.

"And what is your name?"

The man in the blue turban had spoken at last. He glared down at me with bright black eyes above his bushy black beard with a look of clear distrust. I couldn't say I blamed him. I was a werewolf after all, with a very unpredictable temper. Still, I did not like the way he was gripping his scimitar that hung at his side.

Quickly, I weighed my chances. These were not ordinary people. Mrs. Harker was a vampire, and Van Helsing, being an assassin, probably had deadly aim. Captain Nemo had that scimitar, and the others were more than they were showing. And Jekyll had his alter ego, Hyde. I'd need to keep an eye out for him, too.

I couldn't fight them all at once. Even the Ghost Wolf couldn't do that. They were not ordinary police officers. They were highly trained agents with special powers, who probably knew all about me and had silver bullets in their guns. If one of those pierced my heart or my head, I was dead. I would either have to pick them off one by one, or hide. I decided I'd have to run. If I didn't, I would die.

I was too young to die.

"Your name, woman!" shouted Quatermain. I snapped back to the present.

"I'm the Ghost Wolf. That's all you need to know."

He opened his mouth to say something, then he saw my eyes and closed it again. He shrugged and nodded before saying, "Fair enough."

"What do you want from me?"

"I've already told you the rewards for your services, should you consent," he began, but I cut him off.

"Yes, yes, I know all that. What are you asking me to do?"

"I was getting there. Up in Transylvania, in the Carpathian Mountains, there is a certain Count. Dracula is his name. He's a vampire, like Mrs. Harker."

The vampiress scowled, and I frowned when I saw it. Did she know this Dracula character? How?

"He, his wives, and other monsters have been terrorizing the little villages in his domain for years. They want us to go up there and kill him, and everything else that lives in his castle."

"Why don't they just put a stake in his heart and call it a day?" I asked. It seemed dammed simple to me.

"They've already tried that," said Van Helsing.

"And it didn't work?" I raised my eyebrows. "I thought that was how you killed a vampire."

"It is," said Mrs. Harker. "But Count Vladimir Dracula is no ordinary vampire. They've tried everything they know, and nothing has worked."

"And our job is to find out how to kill this guy?" I asked.

"And then kill him," said Quatermain.

I sat back and thought about it for a few minutes. It actually sounded like fun. I had always wanted to live a life of adventure, and though terrorizing New York helped, this "mission," as they were calling it, intrigued me. A chance to go to Europe, a chance to see new peoples, a chance to face a real adversary, as apposed to chasing cops who wet themselves at the sound of my name.

All in all, it sounded like a grand old time, but I was still skeptical.

"And how do I know that this isn't a trap?"

My golden eyes surveyed them each, one by one.

"How do I know that you're not a bunch of special agents sent to capture and kill me?"

"You're a wolf. Can't you tell when we're lying?" said Van Helsing.

I glared at him.

"I can only smell fear, idiot."

He was silent, and I smirked. Once again, I had won the quiet battle of wits that took place between me and Abraham Van Helsing.

Dorian Gray scoffed.

"Now really. If we _were_ special agents, do you really think we would be wasting our time with you?"

I was stung, but I didn't say anything. Instead, I was distracted by Quatermain, who had stepped forward. His gruff, sunburnt face was suddenly kind, and in my heart I felt an odd sort of calm come over me.

"I know why you're suspicious. All your life you've been cast out, excluded from society. No one ever loved you, no one ever accepted you. As a child, you had no one to care for you and treat you like a daughter. All you've ever known is hatred, fear and anger, and now you think that this is just another plan to spite you." He waved his hand at the group behind him. "We've all been there. We know what it is like to be unwanted by everyone. Most of our lives have been lived in lies, which is why we tell you that this is not a lie. This is real. This is only truth."

I didn't need a nose to detect the truth. I looked into his deep brown eyes and I knew he wasn't lying. They weren't trying to trick me. They were honest, the first honesty I knew save insults and death threats. _Why the hell not?_ I thought as I looked from one to the other, studying their sincere faces, trying to see any dishonesty among them. I could see none, and my wolf's intuition told me all was well with these people.

Plus, the idea of adventure and escape was not bad, either.

I smiled, then I grinned, flashing fangs.

"All right, I'm in."

"Excellent," exclaimed Quatermain.

"I knew you'd agree!" said Skinner, jumping up from the chair he was sitting in.

Mrs. Harker, Gray, and Van Helsing said nothing. Karl gave a little moan, and Jekyll smiled.

"Good to have you with us," he said, whatever fear he'd had of me draining out of his face. He had such a gentle voice; I supposed he had to, being a doctor. It was always necessary to calm patients down before an operation, I guessed. I smiled back, and thanked him.

As the group rose to leave, Nemo stepped forward and laid a heavy hand on my shoulder. He gripped it firmly, and his words were even moreso.

"Before we leave for Germany, I would like to stress upon you a very important rule. While you are on my ship, you will remain in human form. I'll not have the animal loose aboard the Nautilus."

I was outraged. The voyage from here to Germany would take months. We had to cross an entire ocean, as well as the North Sea. We could be on the ocean for nearly a year. I couldn't go without blood for more than a few days. I'd starve to death before I even got there.

"How am I supposed to eat?" I nearly shouted. "I can't go months without blood!"

"Oh, you won't need to worry about that," said Quatermain, almost hopping with excitement. "Nemo's got quite a ship. We'll be in Germany before you know it."

**So, what'd you think? I know, the reference to the president of the time is a little geeky, but I like to consider myself a history nerd, among other things. My interpretation of werewolves is that people infected turn into an actual wolf, not something that resebles a gorilla with pointed ears. This is going to be hard for Gabriel to grasp when she meets the werewolves in Transylvania. Also, you may have noticed that I decided not to include Tom Sawyer in this story. Unlike every other woman I've ever met who's seen LXG, I found him rather annoying, and decidedly unattractive. I'm a person who thinks Mina and Jekyll should have gotten together, and plus, if I'd included him, there would just be too many characters. So, if you like him, don't read this. And don't sue.**


	3. Chapter 2: A Presentable Young Lady

**This is the chappie where Mrs. Harker sort of becomes Gabriel's adopted mother, much the the dispeasure of our little Ghost Wolf. For all you X-Men fans, fear not! The mutants are forthcoming!**

**Once again, I only own Gabriel. Although it would be cool to have a ship like Nemo's.**

And what a ship he had! It had no sails, nor was it made of wood. It was made completely of white steel, and bigger than any ship that I had ever seen. The thing was enormous. It was the size of two large hotels stacked on top of each other, and twice as wide. I was amazed it could actually float on water, but Nemo explained that it had something to do with the physics of the air inside the ship. It was mostly gobbly-gook to me, but it could float on water, and that was the important thing. It even traveled _underneath_ it! I'd never thought such a thing was possible.

The inside was just as beautiful, and even more luxurious. All white, with rooms simply, but comfortably furnished. I packed what little I had and settled in quickly.

However, once we left New York City port, Mrs. Harker took charge of me. When they managed to get their hands on me, she and Jekyll dragged me from my room, stripped me of my rags, and threw me into a tub of scalding water. Between the two of them, they scrubbed me down twice, washed my hair and rubbed oil in it to make it soft. All the while, Mrs. Harker lectured my ears off.

"As long as you're in our presence, I'll see to it you look a presentable young lady. I'll not have you running around looking like a common street tramp!"

I hadn't taken a bath in nearly five years now, and now I remembered how much I hated it. I set up a howl. I struggled, I kicked, I cursed, I splashed water everywhere and got both Mrs. Harker and Dr. Jekyll very wet. I almost slashed Jekyll's hand to the bone when he tried to wash the scars on my face, but I was too slow. His hand made it safely away from my jaws before my teeth could pierce his skin, which was a good thing, because if they had, he would have become a werewolf just like me.

I bet Hyde would have liked that.

I fought hard, but Mrs. Harker was a vampire, and that gave her uncanny strength. It was an advantage that was a huge help, probably both to her and to Jekyll.

My cries echoed through the ship, and several people stopped in to see what the racket was all about. Gray came in to laugh at Mrs. Harker, but left very quickly after I gave a particularly furious kick and got water all over the front of his suit and his face. They both got a brief chuckle out of that, and our battle resumed. Finally, Mrs. Harker fished me out of the dirty water, dragged me from the bathtub and dried me off with a large white towel.

I was glad that ordeal was over. Mrs. Harker left for a moment, with strict orders not to budge, and I allowed myself a moment to rest, and catch my breath. I'd gotten a considerable amount of water in my lungs, and managed to cough it all up before she returned.

When she did return, what she was carrying with her made me jump up and start running for the door. However, I ran straight into the arms of Van Helsing, Karl by his side as always.

"Ah, excellent you gentlemen could join us," said Mrs. Harker happily. "Kindly help us dress our little Ghost Wolf, would you?"

Both of them were too shocked to refuse. Taken aback by Mrs. Harker's sudden instructions, they hurried forward and helped Jekyll hold me down as she forced me into the slip, blouse, black skirt, stockings and flat black shoes. The clothes, though too small for Mrs. Harker, were too big for me, and I looked ridiculous. I protested, but she shushed me and said it was an improvement. She then proceeded to tame my wild mane of hair, the men happy to finally be excused. The brushes felt like they were ripping the hair out of my head, even if they were being mastered by Mrs. Harker's incredible strength. It took three different brushes and a comb to finally work out the last tangle.

At this point, I was too tired to fight back. I'd lost most of my strength and will in the middle of the hair-brushing, and now sat quiet and docile, quite unlike the screaming, snapping little wretch of an hour ago. Mrs. Harker was pleased with my change of temper, and her face softened as she ran the comb through my white, now silver with the water, tresses and twisted them in a bun on the back of my head. She made no attempt at conversation, but her silence was not forbidding.

Finally, the transformation from wild animal to young lady was complete. The clothes were uncomfortable, confined and without much movement, but it felt surprisingly good to be clean, and as my hair dried, I had to admit it looked pretty. The scars on my face, though faded a little with time, were still very prominent, maybe even moreso now that my tangles of hair no longer hid them. However, when Mrs. Harker took me up to the open deck that served as a sort of crow's nest, no one noticed, or if they did, they didn't say anything. Skinner let out a low whistle, Dr. Jekyll complimented me and Mrs. Harker for the job she'd done on me, and even Quatermain smiled. Karl and Van Helsing said nothing, but I could see in Karl's eyes that he was losing his fear of me. Van Helsing had removed his hat, and for the first time, I saw his face.

He was not handsome, but he was not ugly either. His chin was covered with a slight stubble of beard, and the rest of his face had a hardened, beaten look to it, especially around his eyes. They were brown, and full of a dark knowledge that I was sure I would never know.

Gray was being the sarcastic snot he usually was. He ran his eyes over me, raised one thin eyebrow and said, "My goodness. You'd never know she was such a cold-blooded killer. Quite the little lady you've made of her, Mina."

I was getting extremely sick of his way of speaking. He was acting so eloquent, but at the same time being painfully obvious that he was stuck up and proud. He was probably very wealthy, and because of that, he treated everyone else around him like dirt.

_What a bastard,_ I thought to myself, as we locked eyes for just a second. It was there, in that short frame in time, that I knew I was going to have problems with Mr. Dorian Gray.

I learned that they were the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and they demanded that I keep the same schedule that they did. After my ordeal with Mrs. Harker, which had taken place that morning after I'd had only a few hours of sleep, I was tired and ready to go back to bed, but instead the dragged me down to the dining hall for breakfast. The food was indeed delicious for human food, and though I preferred blood, I'd never had food like this. The orphanage I'd gone to severed us little more than gruel, bread and milk, and I'd been living on mostly blood and human meat for the last five years, so this wide variety of shellfish, fish, clams and other things I had never even heard of before was quite an experience for me.

However, after eating, I tried to excuse myself and leave the table, but Mrs. Harker stopped me and told me to wait until everyone had finished before going back to my room.

They took forever. I found myself dozing off on my shoulder, the low humming of their voices actually soothing to my ears. When they finally did finish their meal, I got up, happy to finally have a chance to go to my room for a much-needed nap. But just as I reached the door, Mrs. Harker stopped me again.

"Get back here, young lady."

"But I'm _tired!_" I protested loudly.

"You'll keep the same hours we do, and learn to sleep at night. Do you understand me?"

I knew there was no use arguing with her. I would only wear myself out more. So I muttered, "Yes ma'am," and left the room.

However, just because I'd said yes didn't mean I was going to. As soon as I was out of her sight, I went looking for a place to sleep where I would not be easily discovered. I avoided my room, and searched for about ten minutes before I finally found a door into a small library. Though just as immaculately clean as the rest of the ship, my nose told me no one had been in here for a while.

I looked around, then sniffed the air again. Even as a human, I have an amazing sense of smell. No one was coming. I listened intently for footsteps, and heard none. So, with nothing and no one to stop me, I sat down on a cushioned bench near the back of the room, in the only corner that didn't have a bookshelf in it. It was a little firm from lack of use, but it was still soft, and much more comfortable than the hard wood floors I had been accustomed to sleeping on. I curled up and instantly fell asleep.

I was unpleasantly jerked awake by the sound of a loud bell clanging. I started, jumping to my feet, the hairs prickling on the back of my neck and along my arms and legs. There must be an emergency of some sort. I ran to the door of the library and looked out. I could see no signs of emergency: men running, shouting, footsteps banging on floors above. The hall outside was completely still and silent, and I began to wonder if the emergency had already happened and I had somehow slept right through it. Then I heard brisk, determined footsteps coming quickly my way, and I turned my head to see Mrs. Harker walking down the hall towards me. Though her face wasn't livid with rage, she didn't look pleased either.

"There you are!" she cried sharply. "We've been looking for you for fifteen minutes! What on earth have you been doing?"

"Sleeping," I snapped as she seized my arm in her powerful, vice-like hand and began dragging me down the hall.

"Sleeping? Whatever for?"

"I was tired! Because of you!"

"Well, then maybe you should not have fought so hard."

"What did you expect me to do, sit quietly? I'm a werewolf, for God's sake!"

At these words, she swung me around so quickly that I almost lost my footing and she slammed me violently into the wall.

"That is no excuse!" she shouted in my face, her eyes burning red and her four vampire fangs growing long and sharp. "The rest of us should be outcasts the same as you, but at least we have tried to hide our alternate identities and behave like acceptable human beings!" She lowered her voice, but her tone was no gentler. "Do not make the mistake that you are the only person on this ship who thinks she's a monster."

The bell that I had heard turned out to be no more than a call to lunch, which was served very much like breakfast, several different kinds of fish and plants. I tried a type of eel, and found it very tasty. I ate quickly, surprised to find myself hungry after only a few hours of sleep, then left before Mrs. Harker could say something.

I had decided to make a diary of my journey, but I had no paper. I searched my room, but I couldn't find any.

Since the ship wasn't mine, and nothing on it belonged to me, I decided that, instead of wandering around until I found some and then taking it, I would find Nemo and ask him for some.

It took me a while to find him, but when I did, I stood for at least ten minutes until he noticed me standing in the doorway. He was talking to one of his crew members, and when he was done, he looked at me.

"Yes?"

His voice was not stern, but I knew I was not forgiven for appearing late to lunch. I lowered my eyes as I said, "Can I have some paper?"

He frowned at my strange request, but beckoned me into a room, where he gave me a stack of paper, a pen made of some kind of bone, and a bottle of ink.

"Here you are," he said bluntly, and as I took the things in my arms and prepared to leave, he said, "What do you say?"

"Thanks," I muttered, and left the room.

I spent the entire afternoon writing the story of my life. I was so lost in the telling of my own tale, the spinning of my own yarn, that the hours flew by, and before I knew it, it was seven o'clock and time for supper.

At the table, Nemo announced that we would be arriving in the port of Hamburg, Germany at approximately five p.m. a week from today. From there, we would travel down the Elbe River into Berlin, arriving at around nine that same evening. It was there in Germany's capital city that our last League member was said to be hiding.

I was amazed. In a single week, the Nautilus would be able to cross the entire Atlantic Ocean. I'd never heard of a ship moving with such speed, but then again, this was no ordinary ship. Its sheer size and underwater capabilities suggested so. As we finished our meal and retired to our rooms for the night, I ran my hand along the shining white steel of the hallway, wondering what lay ahead of me, and what I had left behind. I went back to my room and recorded these thoughts in my diary, then, finding myself very tired, fell asleep quickly.

Two nights later, Mrs. Harker, Quatermain, and I made an unpleasant discovery.

I had been walking back from supper that evening, when I spotted Quatermain standing ahead of me in the hall, staring at something down another hall perpendicular to ours. I joined him, eager to see what was so interesting.

Through the open doors at the end of the hall, I saw Nemo preparing to kneel down in front of a statue of a woman with six arms and two feet. An Indian god, I suspected. It wouldn't have meant anything to me, except Mrs. Harker's deep, smooth voice made us turn and look around. She had come up so quietly that we had not heard her. It was if she had just melted out of the shadows.

"That's Kali," she said. "Indian goddess of death. Nemo worships death; can we trust him?"

_So,_ I thought. _Even our little human friends have something to hide._

Quatermain turned around and whispered to her, "He's not the one I'm worried about."

I'll never know what he meant then. Or who he meant, for that matter. Nemo saw us staring at him from the other side of the hall, and he walked up and shut the doors to his room. As I walked back to my own room, Mrs. Harker's words, both of that evening and of the time when she'd warned me about thinking myself a monster, chased each other around my brain. She was right. I wasn't the only monster on this ship.

We reached Hamburg port at the exact time Nemo predicted. From there, the League members and myself piled into a smaller, but no less grand version of the Nautilus, called the Nautiloid, and headed up the Elbe River. Four hours later, we landed in Berlin.

The moment the door opened onto the shore, I ripped off all my lady-like attire and bounded out onto land. To the surprise of the League, I changed into a wolf, turned, and headed into the city. I'd lived on human food for my meals for an entire week, and my hunger for human blood was all but driving me into a murderous rage. I could control myself for a time, but if I went too long without blood I would run through the streets, completely sick and out of my mind, killing anyone who crossed my path and gorging myself on their blood. These bouts of fury were never pleasant, and I often awoke the next day with a huge headache, sort of like a hangover that people experience when they've drunk too much alcohol. Sometimes however, I would starve myself for about a week and a half, then give myself up to the demons that controlled my curse. I let them control me. Sometimes, it felt good to let myself go and kill without being aware of it.

I'd done it several times, but I didn't do it often. The way it made me afterwards was absolutely horrible, so I tried to avoid it as much as possible. Now, though I was not really hungry enough to lose control, I was really hungry, and I needed blood. I raced into the streets of Berlin and was soon lost in the shadows of the buildings.

**I hope that little bit of geography is correct. I did some research to see if there was a way I could get them into Berlin by water, and that is the best I could do, according to my atlas, though it may be out of date. I wanted to make it as authentic as possible. That scene with Nemo and the Indian goddess of death is right out of the LXG movie, so if you recognized it, good for you. **

**Anyway, that is the story so far. You like? Reveiw: you know you want to...**


	4. Chapter 3: Kurt Wagner

**At last, the chapter you're been waiting for! I hope I don't disappoint anyone, because the only mutant I've put in this story is my personal favorite: Kurt Wagner, the blue, German teleporter. I loved him in X-2; he's soooo sweet, so I decided to add him in. Warning: I don't know anything about his backstory, so the one you're going to see is one I created entirely by myself, based on what I infered from the conversation he has with Storm in the movie. I was pretty upset that they didn't include him in X-3, because I was really hoping for him and Storm to get together, but I don't think the directors care what I think.**

**To Spaztic Arwen, thanks again for the wonderful reviews! It always makes me so proud when someone reads my writing and enjoys it. You're a doll!**

**Once again, I don't own the League, Van Helsing or Karl, and I don't own Kurt either. But Gabriel is mine, so back away!**

When I returned to the spot of our landing an hour later, there was no one there. I figured they had all gone in search of our last recruit. I changed back into a human, dressed back into those infernal women's clothes, still lying on the ground where I left them, and began to follow their scents.

They weren't hard to track. Even in the avalanche of smells in Berlin, I could still detect the blood from Mrs. Harker, the husky, animal odor from Jekyll, the expensive cologne from Gray, and the greasepaint from Skinner. I could even, faintly, smell the gunpowder from Quatermain's long leather duster. I followed these smells through the streets, seeing no one, until I found them at last in an old, abandoned church.

"Ah, there you are," said Skinner as I pushed open the doors.

"We were wondering when you were going to show up," said Gray. "We almost thought you were gone for good."

I ignored him and walked up to Jekyll. He looked at me out of those ice blue eyes of his.

"He won't come down," he said, gesturing up at the rafters with his head. "We've been talking to him for at least twenty minutes, but he still won't come down."

I looked up. All I could see of the person Jekyll was referring to was a hunched figure all but hidden in shadow. I could make out nothing of his face, or his body. All I could see of our strange new friend was a pair of glittering, yellow eyes.

"Hey!" I yelled. "You up there! Aren't you gonna come down?"

"Get out!" he yelled back at me. I saw the moonlight flash on a set of sharp, white teeth.

"He's German, all right," said Quatermain behind me. He raised his huge rifle up to his shoulder.

"Don't shoot him!" I cried, grabbing the barrel in my hands and knocking it askew. I don't know why I suddenly felt the urge to save this person's life, this man I didn't even know. Maybe it was because I'd caught his scent, and I realized that he wasn't human.

Quatermain fired, startled by my sudden movement, and hit the beam the creature had been standing on. The church was very old and deteriorating. He hit the rafter, and the whole thing collapsed, the creature with it. He let out a single cry, and was silenced immediately as he hit the ground.

"Bloody fool!" Quatermain scolded me. "It was only a tranquilizer dart! Now he may be dead."

I said nothing, but ran forward with Van Helsing, Nemo, and Quatermain to where the creature lay. We were closely followed by Jekyll and Karl, curious to get a look at the man who had hidden from them for the first half-hour of their meeting. The others hung back, Skinner in apprehension, Mrs. Harker and Gray in the haughty style of the gentry.

A few hurried steps closed the distance between us and the fallen man. We crowded around him eagerly, and Van Helsing ordered, "Karl, light!"

The little monk came forward, carrying his lantern and holding it up so we could see the unconscious creature's face. As the rays of light fell upon his features, we jumped and recoiled in horror.

"Oh!" was all I could manage to say.

"He's hideous!" cried Jekyll.

"He's a monster!" Karl squeaked.

"Good God," said Quatermain quietly. Nemo said nothing, and Van Helsing just closed his eyes.

"What's going on over there?" Gray called.

"Yes, what is it?" asked Mrs. Harker.

"Get over here and see for yourself!" I said over my shoulder.

He certainly was strange-looking. I wouldn't say hideous though, once you got past the fact that his skin was dark blue and covered with scars that formed intricate designs on his forehead and cheeks. He had thick black eyelashes and long, greasy hair of the same color. His fingers were long and slender, the fingernails also long, but yellow and chipped in places, showing his lack of nutrition and poor living conditions, as if one hadn't noticed already. There were no shoes on his feet, and his clothes, like mine, were rags. His ears were pointed, but his most unique feature was lying on the ground next to him. At first, I thought it was part of his clothing, or something that had fallen from the ceiling when the support collapsed, but when Karl raised the light to it, we was that it was a tail, about as long as he was tall, and dark blue like the rest of his skin, with a thick, fleshy barb at the end of it. It probably looked harmless, but in the light we could see the rows of tiny spikes that ran vertical along the barb, pointing inward towards his body. There were only four rows, but I was pretty sure he could do some serious damage with them.

Jekyll lifted his lip and inspected his teeth. Karl brought the lamp closer so he could see.

"Strange," murmured the timid doctor, not so timid now that he was in his element. "With his living conditions, his teeth should have been completely rotted out. But you can see here, they're completely intact. Ouch!"

He pulled his finger quickly away from the creature's mouth. At the end of his finger was a drop of blood.

"Sharp suckers, aren't they?" I said, putting my own hand out to touch the scars on his face. "These markings. I wonder what they mean?"

Finally curious, Mrs. Harker, Gray and Skinner wandered over. They wished they hadn't; I could see it in their eyes, because as they bent over us to get a good look at him, both Mrs. Harker and Gray jumped back, cried out, and covered their faces with their handkerchiefs.

"Good God!" shouted Gray. "What the hell is that?"

No one answered him, probably because no one knew what to say. Even I was lost for words. All that my nose told me was that he was not human.

Jekyll broke the silence by pointing out that the creature had a would on his arm that needed to be treated, so he and Van Helsing lifted him up and placed him on one of the pews so that Jekyll could get out his little medicine kit which he carried everywhere and bandage the wound. He pulled off the jacket and was about to remove the creature's shirt when his eyes popped open and he gasped. The sudden action surprised the nervous Jekyll, and he jumped backwards, scaring the rest of us in turn. The creature looked around at us all with a terrified look in his yellow eyes, then with a bang like a gunshot and a puff of blue smoke, he vanished.

We all jumped again, and Quatermain yelled, "Goddamn it! He's gone again!"

I heard a similar bang behind me, and whirled around. He was sitting on something very high; it was too dark to tell exactly what, and he was about six feet above our heads. With only half his face visible, the rest of his body hidden in shadow, and his eyes glowing like a cat's, he looked rather sinister. I felt my heart skip a beat, and heard everyone else's around me speed up. There was a slight scent of fear from them as well.

"Kurt Wagner," called Quatermain up to the creature. "That's your name, isn't it?"

The creature's head snapped towards the speaker and he bared his sharp teeth.

"Get out!" he shouted.

"We're not here to hurt you, Herr Wagner!" Quatermain shouted back. "We want to ask you for a favor!"

"I do favors for no man!" Wagner yelled, his voice thick with a German accent, but we understood every word. "I work only through the word of my God, and not the wishes of mortal man!"

"Oh, wonderful," groaned Quatermain. "He's religious. That just makes this even more difficult."

"I don't think yelling at him is going to work, Allan," said Jekyll softly.

"You want to give this a shot?" Quatermain retorted. Jekyll lowered his head, stung by the remark.

I figured maybe it was time for me to step in. I had no idea how the idea popped in my head, but maybe, just maybe, he would listen to me, seeing that I was no more human than he was. There was a hole in the ceiling and through that hole, a shaft of moonlight shone in front of us, ending right at my feet. So, from out of the darkness, I stepped into the light, and looked up at the creature above me. As the moonlight hit my white skin and hair, I heard him gasp.

"Look, Herr Wagner," I called, tilting my head up so he could see my yellow eyes and sharp teeth. "I know we frighten you. Believe me, you frighten us. But we didn't come here to have a war with you. We only want you to help us. I understand that you only follow the wishes of your God, and we respect that, but there is something evil afoot that threatens your God. The son of the Devil himself right now is preparing a means to extinguish the flame of all that is good that burns so brightly. If you love your God, and it is obvious that you do, please aid us in conquering this evil so it will no longer threaten those who cannot defend themselves."

As my speech died into the long, ponderous silence, I could hardly believe myself. I had come of with a pretty convincing argument, without really thinking about it, but I had also said please. I'd forgotten I even remembered the word at all, much less been able to say it.

But it had worked. The pause weighed on us heavily, then there was a bang and he vanished again. Another bang, and he was standing right in front of me. I jumped, startled, and felt a scattering of hairs run down my back. I quickly suppressed them. We didn't need the wolf coming out right now.

He took a step into the light where I was standing, so we were barely a foot apart. Though he wasn't very tall, he stood head and shoulders higher than me. Suddenly, I felt weak and insignificant.

"What kind of evil do you speak of?"

I wasn't trying to scare him, but I must have done it anyway, because his eyes widened when I said, "A vampire."

He didn't say anything at first. His mouth didn't even open. He just stared at me, as though he was wrestling with his mind, trying to decide if I was telling the truth, or if I was a prophet of Satan trying to steer him away from God.

Quatermain spoke again.

"We need your help, Herr Wagner. We believe that your…exceptional abilities and your strong faith will aid us in the annihilation of this evil monster. So, the choice is yours. Are you in, or are you out?"

The creature looked from me to Quatermain, back to me, then around to the church that must have been his home for several years, and back to me again.

"What you say is true?"

I nodded.

"Every word."

His strange yellow eyes met mine again, and I knew his answer before he said it.

"I am in."

Two hours later, Jekyll had cleaned up Wagner's various cuts and scratches and he had gotten something to eat. We had checked into a hotel in Berlin and in the morning, we were getting on a train that would take us deep into Romania, into the very heart of Transylvania, the wild and untamed land of the Carpathian Mountains. As for the rest of our plans, I was unsure, but I knew we were going to end up in a small town near Castle Frankenstein, where Dracula and his wives had been seen last. We were hoping the people of the town would be able to help us, though Van Helsing had said not to count on it. People in small, isolated cities under siege by monsters would not be inclined to trust strangers, especially strangers like Wagner and myself, who closely resembled monsters ourselves. The League made us cover our faces when we checked in, so that we wouldn't frighten the clerk and anyone else we might meet along the way. All I had to do was lower my eyes and look at the ground, while Kurt borrowed Van Helsing's hat.

We were a hodge-podge of oddities no doubt, and there was nothing to suggest that some of us weren't monsters, way deep in our hearts.

Though the hotel was cheap, money was tight, and we didn't know when we were going to need it next, so it was four to a room, except for Mrs. Harker and myself, who were the only women in the group. The rest of them roomed together: Quatermain, Nemo, Van Helsing and Karl, and Skinner, Jekyll, Wagner, and to my dismay, Dorian Gray. I felt for him, with the yellow eyes like me. He was in for a long night, putting up with Gray and Skinner's torture. I could only hope that he was in any shape to travel tomorrow. I knew I probably wouldn't be, as I lay awake in my bed. Mrs. Harker was in the bed next to me, no sound coming from her, though she was sound asleep. I was thinking about the journey ahead, wondering what lay in store for me, and whether or not this was what I had been put on this earth for. I knew there had to be more to my life than killing some people and scaring the others. I began to wonder if this would be the turning point in my life, or if I would not even survive. Maybe, I thought, I would go to my death on this trip, and New York City would be free of The Ghost Wolf forever…

When I awoke the next morning, Mrs. Harker was so kind to comment on how absolutely terrible I looked. I was also covered in blood and dirt, and into the tub I went. This time, it was much less fierce a fight, and Mrs. Harker needed only herself to get me clean. I even sat still while she fought with my hair, and put on those ridiculous clothes before packing up and meeting the rest of the League in front of the hotel, where a carriage took us to the train station. Once again, they made me and Wagner cover our faces.

It was an overnight train, and because we would be on it for two days, we each got our own bunks, small compartments with only a small bed, a nightstand, and a chair. Though it was not the Nautilus, it was comfortable, and I was not used to anything grand and spectacular anyway. I settled in, tired out from my restless night, and quickly fell asleep.

I awoke sometime later to a soft tapping on my door. Smiling to myself, I recalled a line from Edgar Allan Poe's poem "The Raven."

_"As I lay, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping; a tapping at my chamber door."_

Something like that. It had been so long since I'd read anything, and my memory for such things had never been very good to begin with.

Anyway, someone was knocking on my door, so I mumbled a sleepy, "Come in," and rolled over to face the door. To my surprise, the door slid back and Wagner sidled in. I noticed that he had taken a bath the night before, for his hair was no longer knotted and stuck to his head. Upon seeing me in bed, half awake and tangled in sheets, he stopped.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to wake you," he muttered, preparing to step out again.

"Nah," I said, rubbing my eyes and stretching. "I was going to get up anyway."

He was standing uncomfortably by the door in the corner of the room. I wasn't sure how I could get him to loosen up a little, so I pointed to the edge of the bed. "You can sit there, if you want."

He moved and sat down, still looking uncomfortable. I guessed he had never been alone in a room with a girl again, much less sat in bed with one. I suppose I couldn't blame him for being so uncomfortable, but to me, the rules that put those ideas into our heads were stupid and needed to be done away with. They were just the dying fragments of a decaying age, long past, and should be long forgotten.

But, even though the age was gone, its customs still lived in the hearts of its people, so I couldn't hold it against him. It was nothing personal.

He sat on my bed for a few minutes, then spoke.

"I would like to apologize for the way I treated you last night. It was not right of me, and I ask forgiveness."

"You're forgiven," I said, surprised. "I don't blame you. Personally, I know what it's like to be unable to trust anyone, to live in fear of everyone, expecting every day to be your last."

He closed his eyes nodded. I noticed his black eyelashes were so long they brushed his cheeks when he blinked. A small silence passed between us, both of us getting used to the presence of the other. We didn't really need to say anything, but Wagner spoke up anyway.

"You know, when I first saw you in the moonlight, I thought you were an angel. The way the light reflected off your skin: it was unreal. But then you opened your mouth…"

"And you saw my teeth," I finished for him.

"And the blood," he said, nodding. He closed his eyes again for a brief moment, then opened them. Every time he did this, it was like seeing his eyes for the first time all over again.

"I'm a werewolf," I told him "I need blood to survive."

"God help you child," he said softly. My eyes narrowed.

"God abandoned me a long time ago."

He looked taken aback by my harshness.

"God is with everyone. In your darkest times, and even in your sin, he is always with you."

"Yeah, whatever." I didn't want to hear about any of that "God" crap. He had forsaken me, and I didn't want to have anything to do with him. He certainly didn't want to have anything to do with me. I changed the subject.

"Those marks on your face. Did you do them?"

"Yes," he replied, his face grimacing at the memory. I didn't blame him. The idea of taking a knife or a rock to your skin, even for decorational purposes, didn't sit too well with me either.

"What are they for? Just…because?"

"They are for my sins," he said softly, and for the first time, I saw him shake his head.

"Well, I can imagine that you don't have very many," I said, laughing. I'd meant it as a joke, but he only lowered his eyes and smiled. I realized that it was not funny: quite the contrary, and shut up. It seemed a sensitive subject, and a silence passed between us. I touched my own scars, finally finding the voice to say, "We all have our scars," just to show him that he wasn't alone. We were quiet again, staring at our knees. I spoke again.

"My parents were killed in a werewolf attack. It could have been any house on our street, but it picked ours. It got my parents and nearly killed me too, but some of the neighbors heard the racket and drove it off, but not before it bit me. You can see here," I pulled up my skirt to show him my mangled thigh, "is where it bit me."

"He looked like he was trying to tear your leg completely off. You are lucky you still have it."

"Yeah, I am." I pushed my skirt back down. "Because I have no family or connections, I went to live in an orphanage. The other girls were really mean to me, because of the way I began to look after the werewolf attack. My hair, eyes, skin and teeth didn't always look like this. But it's been so long that I don't remember what color they were before. I used to look at the other girls and sometimes wonder what it would be like to be normal, if at least for a day. But then I'd see my reflection, in a pool of water or a mirror, and remind myself that I will never be like them." I closed my eyes, wishing just for a moment, that I could be human. But then, I opened my eyes and I saw that my hands were still white, and so were the tendrils of hair lying across my shoulders. I was cursed. I would never be human again.

Wagner looked at me.

"I know how you feel. There were many times when I wished I could be human, too. But then I saw what humans can do, and I was glad I was not one of them."

My interest sparked, I forgot my own woes, and leaned forward.

"Why? What happened?"

"I was abandoned by my parents," he began. "I don't remember them at all. I only know this because I was told this. The earliest memories I have are the ones of a circus. I was told I was so frightening as a baby that neither my mother nor my father wanted me. They left me in the care of a traveling circus and got a handsome amount of money for me. I would be called, 'The Phantom Nightcrawler,' the newest edition to their freak show."

"How cruel," I growled.

He nodded, and continued with his story.

"Fortunately for me, one of the gypsies who worked there had lost her own child only a few days before, and her body had not yet adapted to its loss. She took charge of me and nursed me like I was her own, frightening though I was. She was only sixteen, and she would be the only mother I would ever know.

"The first ten years of my life were spent with the gypsies, helping set up the tents, care for the animals, and other various jobs around the circus. Those were the best years of my life, because no one cared how I looked, or that I was different than everyone else. No one judged me, and the other gypsy children never excluded me from their games. I can safely say that, in the very beginning of my life, I was happy.

"Then a few weeks after my tenth birthday, the ringmasters took me away from the gypsies, threw me into a cage, and put me on display as 'The Phantom Nightcrawler.' I was so horrifying in appearance, just the sight of me made many people faint dead away. Women swooned, children cried, and even men had to leave in terror and shock. All because of the way I looked.

"Of course, I was only a child, and had no idea what was happening to me. But, after a few years, when I was thirteen years old, I learned the truth. I have always had a gentle, peaceful nature, and it devastated me. I was shocked at the idea of keeping me like this, scaring people for money. It was ridiculous to me, and at that moment, I offered my soul to God, if he would release me from this place that was using me as a tool of evil. I know that sounds strange, but that was how it seemed to me."

He looked at me, as if expecting me to criticize him for his faith. I said nothing except, "Well, did he answer your prayer?"

He beamed.

"Yes, he did. Though not in the way I had hoped. I was fifteen years old, probably not much older than you are now."

"I'm eighteen," I corrected him.

"My apologies. You look so young. Their treatment of me got worse over the years. Excuse me, but I have to show you something."

He took off his coat, a black thing with tiny, multi-colored rhinestones sewn into it. From the coat he then removed his shirt, and turned around so I could see the jagged scars that stretched across his back and shoulders. I was familiar with these kinds of scars. They were the ones that came from a whip, probably one that had bits of glass or bone woven into the braids. Even though I'd know cruel treatment, I had to wince, as though I could hear the snap and feel the lash. I tried to prevent tears from springing into my eyes. And here I was, thinking I'd had a hard life.

"They beat you?" I said, and he nodded as he turned around to put his shirt back on. I noticed the same designs that covered his face also covered his chest and arms. I wondered if those things covered his entire body. I pulled my mind back to the present and asked, "What for?"

"To make me angry. I was always a better show when I was angry."

"I'm sorry…" I muttered, not sure what else to say. I wasn't very good at expressing my feelings, especially when it came to compassion and sympathy.

"One day," he continued, "I could not take it anymore. I thought God had forgotten about me, after I'd said the same prayer every night for two years. I will remember that moment for as long as I live. It was during a show. I was being whipped in front of a crowd, so I would get angry and lunge at the bars like an enraged animal. This particular day, for some reason, instead of making a show and pretending to get angry, which was the only way I could get them to stop beating me, I actually did get angry. In case you have not noticed, it is not in my nature to get violent, even in the most extreme of circumstances. That day was the only time I have ever been really angry, ever in my life. I did not lunge out at the people behind the bars, but turned instead on the man who held the whip." He shook his head. "I was young, and blind with rage and pain. I shot under his arm when he raised it, jumped into the air and fastened my jaws on his throat. You can see my teeth are as sharp as yours, and I broke the skin easily. Blood spurted everywhere. He dropped at my feet, twitching and writhing, his hands clawing his throat. I saw him there, bleeding to death at my feet, and at that moment, I panicked. People were screaming, some were laughing, some were cheering, some were not sure what to do. I had just attacked a human being, drawn blood, and probably killed him too. I wished I was anywhere but here, but there was nowhere to go. People were pressing in on all sides of the cage, blocking all exits. I could not escape, or so I thought. I heard a bang like a gunshot, and I felt like my body was collapsing in on itself. When I opened my eyes, I was standing on the other side of the crowd, completely free of my cage. I was so amazed. The humans were looking around to see where I had gone, and their confusion made me laugh quietly. But I could not laugh long, because soon I would have to run, to avoid being spotted."

He looked at me. The whole time he'd been telling his story, he had been staring at his bare feet. Now he raised his eyes to look at me.

"And that is all, really. I ran away, and found refuge in that church in Berlin, where I perfected my newly discovered gift. I tried to find a way to make a living, but with little education and a hideous appearance, I was not successful. So, even though I knew it was wrong, I used my gift to steal things I needed: food, clothing, anything else. I found a Bible, which became my only source of counsel. I was an outcast, doomed to live forever alone because of my face. So it has been for five years."

He hung his head, and before I could say or do anything, he began to cry. I couldn't believe it, but then I remembered that he had lived his life an outcast, and probably never been taught that it was not appropriate to cry in company.

I was stumped. I had never been taught all the rules of society either, so I had no idea what you did when someone started to cry in front of you. Awkwardly, I put my arm around his shoulders and gave his back a couple of pats. Then I realized that probably wasn't enough, so I put both arms around him in a lopsided sort of hug. He bent his head to my breast, crying more freely now.

"I know how you feel," I said, trying to choke back the tears that suddenly were threatening to spill over my own eyes. "I've lived for five years on my own, except my past is bloodier than yours. I've killed innocent human beings, both for food and for sport. I've torn people apart, and felt good about it. I've drained children of their blood while they were sill alive, and I've enjoyed it." The tears fell hard and fast now for the first time in five years, and for the first time in my life, I felt awful for all the things I'd done. I cried for all those I'd killed, all those lives I'd taken. I cried for myself, for the terrible curse I had to bear for the rest of my life. I cried for Kurt Wagner, who's life of misery and abuse I would never know, and how he was still so tender-hearted, while I'd let the curse consume me and become a monster.

We cried together for a few minutes, then Wagner pulled away, wiping his eyes.

I ran my hand over my own face, using the backs of my sleeves to mop up my tears. I noticed a red splotch on the front of my shirt where his head had been. I looked up at him.

"Another 'gift,' I think," he said, smiling weakly. "I cry blood instead of tears."

"Wagner," I began, but he held up his hand.

"Kurt, please. There need be no formalities amongst friends."

I smiled at the word "friends." He turned to go, then stopped.

"I never got your name."

"Gabriel," I said. "Gabriel Lucian."

He smiled, then thanked me for our "little chat," as he called it. Maybe, it seemed to me as he left the room, that this adventure, or at least part of it, would not be as bad as I had originally predicted.

**So, there you go. One more character thrown into the mix, makeing it all the more confusing, I'm sure. Once again, I'm pretty sure that what I've written is not Kurt's backstory, but that's fine by me, because I'm more of a Ninja Turtles freak that an X-Men freak, so I got to take a few creative liberties. The way I've introduce him his the same way they introduce him in X-2, more or less, and I got the crying blood idea from the latest James Bond movie, Casino Royal, where the bad guy has one screwed up eyeball and cries blood out of it. Anyway, let me know how I'm doing!**


	5. Chapter 4: Vampire Attack!

**Yay, I have another reviewer! Elwyndra, thank you so much! You have no idea what your words mean to me!_ (wipes tear from eye)_ And to Spaztic Arwen, thanks again. I didn't mean that line to be a joke; it was that he saw her sharp, bloodstained teeth and realized that she wasn't an angel. But I'm glad you laughed, I love making people laugh.**

**Anyway, here's where it starts to sound like the Van Helsing movie, but with my own personal additions, just because it would be so much cooler if it happened this way. Enjoy!**

Over the next few days, the train took us deeper and deeper into the wild, ragged lands of Eastern Europe, into the very heart of Romania. Transylvania: the darkest part of the Carpathian Mountains. We stopped in the closest city to our destination that we could, because the little town that we were trying to reach was way up in the mountains, where the train could not go, and the only way we could get there was by horseback.

I was a little more than unhappy when I heard this news. I had never been on a horse in my life, because every horse I have ever met has been afraid to get near me. They can smell the wolf in me, and thus, because horses are one of the smartest animals in the world, they won't let me near them. Which, in all consideration, is fine by me, because I am skeptical of anything that is bigger than me in wolf form. That is a very small margin, because a werewolf is almost twice the size of a normal wolf, but horses are one of the things that fall into that category, so I try to avoid them whenever possible. Also, never underestimate the power of those hooves when they're frightened or angry. I did that once, in human form, and it kicked me in the face. My nose was broken, and it took an entire day of hard, embarrassed sleep for it to heal.

That had happened to me when I was very young, and still in the orphanage, and I had been ridiculed by both my teachers and classmates for nearly a month afterwards. Of course, I was already heckled for my strange looks and ugly scars, and this only added fuel to the fire that was beginning to kindle in my soul. It wasn't until later that I figured out that horses, along with cats, dogs and other animals could smell the wolf in me, thus pertaining to their fear. But at the time, just like no one could figure out why I looked the way I did, they couldn't figure out why no horse wanted to get near me.

They did, eventually, but by then it was too late.

But that was years ago, and I pulled myself back into the present as Quatermain motioned the rest of us over.

As I had predicted, as soon as I came near the stable, the horses immediately began pawing the ground nervously and rolled their eyes in anticipated fear. I backed up, and they calmed down somewhat. I moved forward again, and they began to get apprehensive again. I backed up again, and they calmed again. I kept back as the rest of the League went forward. Skinner noticed me hanging back, and laid an invisible hand on my shoulder.

"Don't like horses?" he asked me, and for the first time, his voice was neither joking nor playful. "I know how you feel. I don't like 'em very much either. To tell you the truth," he leaned close to me as though he were telling me a secret. "I'm a little scared of 'em."

He burst out laughing, and I couldn't help but smile back. I saw his eyebrows twitch at the sight of my teeth, and I said, "But it's the horses who are afraid of me."

I couldn't tell the expression on his greasepainted face, because his eyes were invisible, and hidden behind his pince-nez, but I could hear in his voice that he was a little concerned when he said, "Oh…right," and walked quickly away. I smiled to myself. I did love scaring people.

I looked over at Kurt, and was amazed at what I saw. One of the horses, a sleek gray and white mare, was nuzzling his chest, looking for the lump of sugar he held in his hand. I gaped, half in shock, half in jealousy. Kurt was no more human than I was, and yet the horses were not afraid of him. He didn't smell any more human either, and yet she did not rear or kick. I was envious for a moment, then I remembered that, inhuman or not, he did not have any wolf blood in his veins, so, no matter what his scent may have been, it wasn't anything a horse would know to be afraid of, so I guessed I really had nothing to be jealous of.

"They aren't afraid of you," I said to him.

Kurt looked up.

"I used to ride them all the time growing up." He swung himself up without a saddle. "Once you learn, you never forget. I guess you could say it is in my blood. Why are you all the way back there? Are you afraid?"

"A little," I said truthfully. "I got kicked in the face when I was a kid and since then, I've never really liked horses very much. They're afraid of me really, because of the wolf blood in me. They can smell it, and they get scared."

"Well, come here." He motioned with his hand. "The only way to conquer your fears is to face them. I will soothe the horse. Come here!"

He motioned more urgently, but I still hung back. I was reliving that incident in my mind, and I wasn't about to let it happen again. It had hurt enough the first time. But Kurt was relentless, and we had to get going to get as far as possible before dark. So, against my better judgment and with no other option, I took a few steps toward Kurt and the horse.

Immediately, she began to stamp her feet and whinny softly. I paused, then moved again. She tossed her head, and her ears twitched. Kurt was patting her neck and whispering something I couldn't understand, probably in another language. She stopped shuffling, but her eyes still stared at me uneasily as I approached. I tried to avoid eye contact, and kept my stance as unthreatening as possible, but I don't think it helped much. She still distrusted me, even when Kurt grabbed my hand and pulled me onto her back.

Once there, I became even more nervous than ever. I was used to being very high off the ground, like on the rooftops of buildings and other things, but never on top of anything living and moving. I was only about five or six feet off the ground, but when the mare shifted her weight, I clutched Kurt around the waist and squeezed my eyes shut. He felt my fear, and put one hand over mine.

"Don't be afraid," he said softly. "You'll get used to it."

Again, because money was tight, there were two people to a horse. Because Kurt and I were fairly small, we both rode, though I would have much preferred to walk. But Kurt wouldn't hear of it, and wouldn't let me off, so I had to just sit there and deal with it. Mrs. Harker and Jekyll rode together, with Jekyll walking, Karl and Van Helsing with the latter walking, Skinner and Gray with the former having to walk, and Quatermain and Nemo, with Nemo, who didn't care much for horses, walking.

Quatermain led his horse up to the front of the group, then turned around to face the rest of us.

"The only way to this town we're going to is through the mountains, on that little road right there."

He pointed to a small dirt path barely visible against the mountain face. It didn't even look like a foot path, much less something big enough for a horse to tread on. I frowned uneasily into the back of Kurt's head, and he must have felt my eyes, because he turned around and looked at me. It was just a quick glance, because right at that moment Quatermain yelled, "Let's move!" but there was something there in his eyes I couldn't place. Then the mare started moving, and I had to close my eyes and hold on for dear life.

We rode all day, and by the time we stopped for the night, I was glad to be off the horse and onto solid ground. My rear was numb, and my knees were killing me from being twisted so long in the position they had been in. I could barely walk, and when I tried to get off the horse, my legs wouldn't work, and I fell. I couldn't get up, and Kurt had to carry me over to the fire that Quatermain, Van Helsing, and Nemo had gotten started. He went to go tie up the horse, and left me to rub life into my legs.

The rest of the League dismounted and wandered over, settling down to get warm. Karl got out the provisions and cooked them over the fire. I managed to get a little bread and meat down, but I didn't really feel like eating. I hadn't had blood in four days, so I had little appetite for human food. But there were no people around for miles, and I didn't feel like running around looking for a kill at this time of night, not with such little energy. I felt so exhausted that, human blood or none, all I wanted to do was sleep. Karl had given me and Kurt extra robes because we had no heavy jackets and our clothes did little to keep the chill away. It made great sleeping material as I pulled it around me, found a soft spot near the fire, curled up into a ball with my head on my hands, and quickly fell asleep.

I awoke sometime later to unfamiliar sounds and smells. I opened my eyes, uncurled and stretched, then pinpointed the source of the smells. My stomach rumbled, and white hair began to grown from my skin as my bones began to lengthen, joints popped and my body transformed. Leaving my clothes in a heap, I crept silently into the woods in the direction of the noises.

They were over by our horses, going through the packs on the ground. There were three of them, scruffy, ragged men of different ages, probably a father and two sons. I didn't understand the language they were speaking, but you didn't have to know the words to tell that they were going though our things looking for something of value.

Bandits.

But they were humans, and I needed blood. I crouched behind a bush, waiting until all three of them were facing the other direction, then I bounded out of hiding and into their backs.

The slaughter didn't last long. It was quick and sufficient; I doubt they ever knew what hit them. They screamed of course, but they didn't scream long. I finished off all three of them in five minutes flat.

Their screams and the frightened whinnying of the horses brought the rest of the League running. I heard their shouts; I heard their terrified footsteps. They were looking for me.

Quickly, I finished up and changed back into a human, only to discover that I had left my clothes back at the camp where I'd been sleeping. I shrugged. Oh well, they'd just have to see me naked. I wiped the blood off my mouth and I heard Skinner say, "What they hell is going on here?" as I walked out from behind the trees where the horses were tied.

"Relax, it was just a few bandits. I already took care of them."

As usual when I had no clothes on, everyone stared at me in shock. I looked over at Kurt to see his reaction, and he quickly dropped his gaze. I walked right past them to where my clothes were, put them on, and prepared to curl up again. Quatermain put some more wood on the fire, and soon had a healthy blaze going again. With a full stomach, my bloodlust sated and a warm fire, I gave into my exhaustion and slipped into the mysterious shadows of sleep.

We arrived in the town early the next afternoon. Before we entered, Quatermain turned to us.

"Be on your guard. They may be rude, because they are not very accepting of strangers. You two," he pointed to me and Kurt. "Do something about your faces."

We looked at each other, then pulled the hoods of Karl's borrowed robes over our heads, pulling them down low enough to hide our faces. I twisted my hair back into the hood at my neck. I didn't think I could fool the townspeople into thinking I was human if I had white hair.

With our frightening features hidden, we dismounted and let Van Helsing put our horse into a nearby stable.

"I cannot see," said Kurt, his hood pulled down so low over his face that you could barely see it.

I had mine low enough to cover my eyes, the rest of my face hidden in shadow. I, at least, could see where I was going.

"Take my arm," I said to him. Out of the range of my eyesight, I felt his fingers close on my arm just above the elbow. Together, we waited for the rest of the League to gather around us. Quatermain gave us one last pep talk.

"Remember, they will not trust you. So be open, but not too much. Do not reveal anything about yourself or why you are here. Be polite, but not friendly. We are on a mission here: a mission to kill." He glared at Skinner. "Don't fool around. You will be dressed and greasepainted at all times, unless you're sleeping or when I say otherwise. Is that clear?"

Skinner nodded. Quatermain turned to me

"You. Try to keep the killings down. I know you need blood to survive, but the last thing we need when we arrive here is to have you kill someone the first night we're here."

I frowned, but I didn't say anything. I personally didn't see what the big problem was. I had learned that this Dracula character had been using werewolves for centuries: if I killed anyone, they would think it was one of the Count's wolves. I didn't see anything to be worried about, but I held my tongue. The last thing any of us needed was a smart-mouth right before the true start of our mission. I kept quiet.

Mrs. Harker broke my thoughts, and the silence that surrounded us.

"Do you think they will have someplace for us to stay?"

"I don't know," Quatermain answered her. "I don't think so. Because they are so far out of the way, they probably don't get very many visitors, so it wouldn't seem logical to have an inn or hotel. But if they do, don't expect luxury."

She sighed, and walked with a bit of a pout as we turned and started into the town.

Without even looking, I knew they were watching us. The townspeople, who had moments before been going about their daily lives, now stopped and turned to us with looks of skepticism and unwelcome on their faces. I took notice of the weapons they were carrying: pitchforks, clubs, old rusty swords. Nothing extremely dangerous, but we certainly didn't want to make them mad. Kurt and I kept our heads bowed, Kurt more than me, and followed Quatermain and Van Helsing, who were in front. Karl walked beside us, on Kurt's other side, with Nemo, Skinner, Jekyll, Gray and Mrs. Harker trailing behind. I noticed the people beginning to follow us, clutching their primitive weapons in their hands, waiting silently for us to make a move. Kurt's hand squeezed my arm. I turned to him.

"Don't worry. They look intimidating, but I can smell their fear stronger than their blood. They're afraid of us, probably moreso than we are of them. I bet if we so much as glared at them, they'd back off."

Next to us, we heard Karl whispering to Van Helsing, "Is it always like this?"

"Pretty much," was the stoic reply, but before he could say any more a voice from behind us boomed, "Welcome to Transylvania."

Quatermain stopped. The rest of us stopped behind him, and Skinner almost ran into me. We all turned as one to the see who had spoken, and saw a scrawny old man with straggly white hair and bad teeth, dressed all in black. I instantly disliked him, not because of the way he looked, but of the scornful way he stared down his crooked and filthy nose at us. I didn't raise my head any higher though, because then he would see my face, and I couldn't have that.

Then I heard the clicking of boots on wood behind us. A woman's voice, sharp and thick with accent snapped, "You! Turn around."

We all obeyed. She was standing on the edge of a well, and all I could see of her was a pair of black, high-heeled leather boots. I didn't dare lift my head, though I was burning to identify the speaker.

Behind me, I heard Skinner whisper to Gray, "Do we know this lady?"

"Princess Anna Valerios," Quatermain whispered, turning around so he could face us. "She's the last of her line, and if she is killed before Dracula is, her entire family, dead and alive, will never enter heaven. It is therefore direly important that she stays alive until Dracula is destroyed."

"Let me see your faces," she barked, cutting him off.

She certainly was full of orders. This time, however, we did not obey. Instead, Van Helsing retorted, "Why?"

"Because we don't trust strangers," she replied.

"Strangers don't last long here," said the scrawny old man in black, hovering around Quatermain with a measuring stick, muttering to himself. "Five foot ten: two foot nine…" Quatermain waved him away, and it was then that I realized that the man was an undertaker, and those measurements were for coffins. He _wanted_ us to die. I wondered why I'd smelled faintly the scent of death on him.

"You will now be disarmed," said Princess Anna. I heard the townspeople move forward, and Van Helsing's hand shot to his waist. Quatermain did the same, his trusty rifle left with the horses, and Nemo and Skinner reached for their swords. None of us wanted a fight, but we were prepared to defend ourselves if we had to.

I had expected a little hostility, but nothing like this.

"You can try!" snarled Van Helsing. The people backed off. Of course. They were afraid of us.

"You refuse to obey our laws?" she asked.

This time it was Quatermain who answered.

"The laws of men mean little to us."

"Fine," She turned to her people. "Kill them!"

The undertaker let out a cry of glee as the townspeople closed in on us. This time, Nemo and Skinner did draw their swords, and Quatermain pulled out his pistol. Even Gray had a blade cleverly hidden in his cane. I felt the hair scurry across my body, and I suppressed it. I couldn't turn into a wolf here. If I had to fight, I would use my hands and teeth. I was still very strong, even in young woman form.

Had it not been for Van Helsing, we all might have died right there and then. He spoke quickly, but effectively.

"We're here to help you."

"I don't need any help," said Anna.

"Really?"

He ducked into his bag and pulled out a frightening crossbow. Princess Anna gasped and dropped, and we saw what he was really aiming at. Three flying, flapping shapes with glowing eyes that were howling and screeching like banshees. As they came closer, I saw that they vaguely resembled human women, except…they didn't. They had grayish blue, leathery skin, wings like bats, and feet with long talons like an eagle or a falcon. Their eyes were red like coals, and they had long, sharp fangs.

"God, that's ugly," I said, not quite sure what to do. I had never seen something like that before, and I wasn't sure whether to run or stand my ground. Gradually, I became aware of people screaming and scattering in all directions around me, then I caught their smell on the wind. I had smelled it before, in my apartment several days ago, and it filled me with the same unearthly terror now as it had then. All I wanted to do was get away from those things. But my legs were frozen, my knees locked and my muscles wouldn't respond. One of the monsters was headed straight for me, and I was trapped, out there in the open like a sitting duck. I was about ready to throw up my arms and wait for it to grab me when someone grabbed me around the waist, there was a bang and a feeling like I was being sucked down a drain, and I was in an entirely different place than I'd been before: lying on my stomach in a haystack. I was a little shaken, but not so surprised to see Kurt lying next to me, an arm still wrapped around me.

"Vampires!" he hissed in my ear, so close that I felt one of his sharp teeth actually scratch the skin.

"_Those_ are vampires?"

I found that rather hard to believe. Vampires seemed, to me at least, a bit more dignified that this.

"I'd always thought vampires were sophisticated creatures," I muttered to Kurt.

"They are," he muttered back. "In the New World. But these are Old World vampires. They're little more than monsters."

"Monsters, I guess."

Not only were they extremely ugly and had voices like fingernails on a chalkboard, but they were just as nasty in their behavior. They grabbed people up, swung them around in the air, and then threw them back down. Some poor soul got thrown down the well and probably didn't survive. One of the vampires even threw a cow through the upstairs window of a house. I'm still not sure if it survived or not.

Kurt and I stayed low for a few minutes, watching the creatures wreak havoc on the villagers. They hadn't bitten anyone yet, but then my sharp ears caught a very familiar scream. I snapped my head in the direction of the scream, and saw Jekyll being lifted into the air by one with long, dark hair. She began to fly away, Jekyll in tow, kicking and screaming and flailing his arms in terror. For a brief moment, his ice-blue eyes met mine, and something in me was sparked. For the first time in my life, I felt protective, like a mother for her children, and my fists clenched. I couldn't let Jekyll die in the claws of a monster. Assessing the situation, I saw the vampire and Jekyll headed for a gap in between two buildings. If I moved quickly enough, I could head them off and catch them as they went by. I bared my teeth and snarled. I felt Kurt's body stiffen beside to me, then I tore out of the haystack on all fours, only running on two feet when I had gotten out of the stable. Racing the vampire and Jekyll, I reached the buildings. With practiced ease, I jumped up on the awning that covered the porch, pulled myself up to the roof and crouched. Two seconds later, right on time, the vampire with Jekyll swooped directly under me. I jumped, and to my great surprise, landed on her back squarely between her wings. She hissed at me, and twisted her head around to snap at me. She was unsuccessful, and I acted quickly. I grabbed her arm in one hand, the back of her head in the other, and sank my teeth into her shoulder. The blood that welled up in my mouth was black and foul, and I spat it out immediately.

But it was enough. She dropped Jekyll because she couldn't hold us both, but I was still on her back, clutching on for dear life as she swooped and dived to throw me off. I knew I'd have to get off soon, before she came up with more creative ways to kill me. I let go, and found I was higher up in the air than I had predicted, and though I landed on all fours to distribute my weight, I felt my left arm break and my kneecap shatter. Closing my eyes with the pain, I concentrated on mending my knee. I observed the damage to my arm. The bone had dislodged and was sticking out of the skin at a funny angle. When my patella was one bone again, I popped my arm back into place, where it, as well as the skin and muscle tissue healed.

I stood up and shook the dirt and dead leaves off. I looked around, and found that same vampire with the dark hair going after Jekyll again. I sighed. Some people never learn. I'd have to get tough this time. Slipping into a building that happened to be a crude bakery, I pulled off the robe, Mrs. Harker's clothes, and the boots I'd borrowed from Nemo that were a little big, but they kept my human feet warm. Making certain no one saw me, I changed, and burst through that bakery door with enough force to knock it off its hinges. I scared some chickens that were pecking and scratching around nearby, and pounded the ground with huge feet as I raced to Jekyll's rescue.

He'd been doing a good job fending her off with a scalpel he must have pulled from is bag, but it was a battle he was rapidly losing. Had I not arrived when I did, his blood would have been vampire food. She knocked him over, pinned down the hand that was holding the scalpel, and was about to take a bite out of his neck when I reached them. Wolves can run all day, and I had no shortage of energy. I raised a foot and slapped her across the face, my claws gouging lines in her cheek. She rolled away, and I stepped over the trembling doctor as if he'd been my cub. I crouched low over him, shielding him with my body, watching her with my yellow eyes, snarling warnings of, "Keep away!" as best as my wolfish vocal cords could.

The vampire got to her feet and took wing, ready to fight me for her prey, when suddenly, she screeched, shot up in the air, and disappeared down the well.

I looked around, wondering what might have made her act like that, then I heard Princess Anna say, "The sun." I understood. The sun's rays could kill these Old World vampires while they had no effect on Mrs. Harker, so of course they'd hide where it was dark until it went back behind the clouds again.

I stepped back from Jekyll and let him roll over and prop himself up on his elbows. We looked at each other straight in the eyes, and even as a wolf I felt a wave of pity for him. I still had not met Hyde yet, but I could just imagine the effect he had on the poor, nervous man I saw in front of me. I could see the pain behind his bright blue eyes: the pain of having to hide a murderous dual personality. I knew it was there, because it was also in my eyes whenever I looked into a mirror. He could see it too, and for a moment, we had a brief understanding, then he blinked and smiled. He put his hand up and scratched me behind the ears.

"Hello, Ghost Wolf."

He had a wound on the side of his head that was bleeding a little. My bloodlust completely forgotten, I reached out and licked it, hoping that my tongue would soothe the pain. He laughed and pushed me away.

"I appreciate the help, Ghost Wolf, but I'll bandage it later." He turned his head, and I turned with him to see what he was looking at.

Van Helsing and Princess Anna, the former with his fancy crossbow and the latter with a sickle she had picked up, were creeping up on the well. Moving slowly like they were stalking prey, they went step by careful step towards the black hole in the ground. Things had quieted down, and people were gradually coming out of their hiding places. I did a quick head count and found that everyone, minus Skinner and Gray, was alive and well. Where those two had gotten I had no idea. I hoped they had found a place to hide, but I didn't think I would mind if the vampires had gotten a hold of Gray. I didn't see Nemo anywhere either, but everyone else was out in the clearing; even Kurt had come out of the barn. I figured they had all scattered when the vampires attacked. Wise decision I thought, because I had just spent the last twenty minutes protecting Jekyll, making sure he didn't end up on the dinner menu. If all the other members had been out in the open, I would have had a harder time making sure all of them didn't end up on the dinner menu. Sure, maybe they had ways to defend themselves, but we were up against something I was sure none of us had ever tangled with before. I certainly had never fought vampires before. I hadn't even known they'd existed until I met Mrs. Harker.

Van Helsing and the princess had reached the well. They paused, looked at each other, then peered over the edge. There was a silence, in which we all held our breaths, then Anna's shoulders slumped as she let out a sigh. We all followed suit, and judging by the relieved, but disappointed looks on their faces, they'd seen nothing. Van Helsing bit his lip. I could tell he'd been aching to fire that high-tech crossbow of his again, even though the square and the surrounding buildings were peppered with silver arrows.

We all stood around, waiting for someone to tell us what to do. We looked at each other, the very air around us thick with tension and anxiety. Karl was the first to notice the danger we all felt. He was looking up at the sky as he said, in an apprehensive voice, "Uh…Van Helsing?"

I looked up as well, just as a cold wind ruffled my fur. The hackles on my spine prickled. The sun was going behind the clouds again. Without the protection of the sun, the vampires would soon attack. I let out a bark to alert the others, but I was too late.

The vampiress in the well shot into the air with an ear-splitting screech, knocking Van Helsing clean off his feet and grabbing Anna up into the air. Cackling like a witch in a fairy tale, she dragged her victim off in another direction.

From the ground, Van Helsing yelled, "Don't let her get away!"

I wasn't sure exactly who he was yelling at, or whom he meant by "her." I would have given chase, but a black shape made me stop.

After looking hard, I discovered that the black shape was Mrs. Harker. Her face was barely visible in a cloud of bats, but it was her nonetheless. Her piercing green eyes were unmistakable.

"Leave this to me, Ghost Wolf!" she hissed, and I dropped as she shot over my head.

I didn't stop to think. With one less thing to worry about, I proceeded to get Jekyll to a place where he'd be safe. I didn't even give him time to get up. I seized the back of his coat collar in my teeth and dragged him to the stable, where I used my paws to partially cover him with hay. I gave him a look that said, "Stay here," and bounded out to witness a terrifying scene.

Van Helsing had been shooting his fancy silver arrows at one of the creatures, the one with the blonde hair. Now she dropped out of the air, landed on the railing of a porch, and transformed. Her skin changed from bluish-gray to the palest of peach hues, almost white. Her wings disappeared, and became sheer veils of cloth attached to her scant outfit. Her eyes changed from red to blue, and her blonde curls suddenly looked like they hadn't been severely windblown. She pulled out the silver arrows that Van Helsing had shot into her as though they were mere thorns, and the wounds they left behind healed themselves. Whole and in one piece, she was beautiful, but the sinister look in her eyes told a different story. Inside, she was still a monster.

She had, however, certainly caught some attention. Van Helsing lowered his crossbow and Karl, who had been rummaging around in his bag, looked up and stopped dead. Even I stopped in my tracks. We were all spellbound, stunned by the evil beauty before us.

She and Van Helsing faced off, then she jumped from her perch, turning back into a monster as she did so. Her banshee-like scream rent the air as she headed straight for Van Helsing's throat. He reacted quickly, choosing his moment, then fired right in between her eyes, dropping so she hurled over his head, shrieking. Foiled, she pulled the arrow out of her head and whirled around, but he was already heading in the other direction. Not to be outdone, she came after him, and because she could fly faster than he could run, caught up with him. She swung him up into the air with her back feet, flew a little way, and flung him into the side of a building. The impact knocked the crossbow from his hands, and before he hit the ground, she grabbed him again, flew in another direction, and threw him against a cart, where a hay bale fell on him. That may not sound like much, but anyone who's had experience with hay bales knows they're heavy, and that one falling can break the neck of a small child. They won't kill an adult, especially not one of Van Helsing's caliber, but they will give you a nasty bump that'll turn into a bruise in the morning.

She didn't give him any time to recover from that knock either. As soon as he was on the ground he was up again, this time very high in the air, and then dropped on his stomach. I heard the wind rush out of his lungs. We braced ourselves for her to come back, but she flew away, gloating. But in her moment of triumph, she missed one detail, a detail that would kill her.

She had dropped Van Helsing only a few feet from his crossbow.

Karl cried out, "The church!" and I turned to look where he was pointing. There was a fountain, and a pool of water beneath it, right next to the church steps.

Holy water.

He was on his feet in an instant, scooping up his crossbow and heading for the fountain. Karl screamed, "Here she comes!" just before he tripped on his robe and fell down. Sure enough, we saw a faint black shape descending rapidly from the sky. She must have realized her mistake and was now coming to finish him off.

But she wasn't fast enough. I saw, as if in slow motion, Van Helsing reach the fountain, dunk his crossbow, and turn around just as the vampire reached him. When the weapon doused with holy water was pointed at her, she sucked in her breath, made a horrible sound in her throat through her teeth, and tried to turn around and flee. Van Helsing was unmerciful. He fired until he had pinned her to the top of the highest building in the square. From another building, the roof exploded as the other two vampires took off for the hills, screaming. The one they had left behind was gasping for air as she shrank, the flesh evaporated from her bones, and the bones crumbled into dust.

A silence washed over us, broken briefly by Van Helsing's soft murmur of, "_Requiescat in pace_," as he and Karl crossed themselves.

Quatermain and Princess Anna came out of the building that the other vampires had exploded out of. "Everyone here?" he called.

"Check," said Van Helsing and Karl.

"Check," said Gray, coming out of the local bar with a glass of sherry. Skinner was right behind him, holding a glass of what was probably scotch. At Quatermain's disapproving glare he shrugged and said, "What? We paid for them."

"That's just like you, Dorian," said Mrs. Harker, walking into the square from a side street, no longer surrounded by bats. "Loafing around with a drink: cowardly."

"I'm here," said Jekyll, brushing hay off his coat and pants. Mrs. Harker reached up to pluck a piece out of his hair, and for the first time, I noticed he didn't flinch.

There was a bang next to me as Kurt appeared.

_"Ja," _he said.

I barked. What else could I say? Quatermain turned to locate the source of the sound, and glared at me from under his bushy eyebrows.

"Get dressed this minute. I'll deal with you later."

_Sheesh. No good deed goes unpunished_, I thought as I trotted off to the bakery where I'd left my clothes.

When I got back, Captain Nemo had rejoined us as well. Turns out he'd rounded up several children who had been separated from their parents in all the mayhem, and had been protecting them with a drawn sword while they hid. He hadn't been doing much, because Van Helsing had his hands full with the blonde, and the other two had been trying to kill Princess Anna. But of course, his efforts were greatly appreciated, both in the parents' grateful faces, and in the way the children were pressuring him to take a beaded necklace and other trinkets. He refused them, much to their dismay, before they were shepherded away by their families.

In the meantime, the townspeople told us exactly how they felt about of the extermination of the blonde-haired bride. They came out of hiding and crowded around the church steps where we sat, and there were shouts of "He killed a bride!" and "He killed a vampire!"

Karl looked at Van Helsing.

"Are you always this popular?"

"Pretty much," he said as he put his hat on his head, ignoring the jeers from a young man who pointed his finger at him and yelled, "He's killed the vampire!"

"Isn't that a good thing?" asked Gray with a shrug.

"Vampires only kill what they need to survive: one or two people a month," said the creepy undertaker with the bad teeth. His smirk, as well as his attitude, were really starting to get on my nerves. "Now they will kill for revenge."

The people heartily agreed, and the undertaker continued, "So what names, my good sirs, do I carve on your gravestones?"

"They are the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen," said Princess Anna in a loud, clear voice. There were murmurings in the crowd, and the people looked at each other. I could tell they had no idea what that meant, and the idea of killing us was still hot on their minds. "_His_ name is Van Helsing."

Now there were louder murmurings, and the smell of fear became stronger. The townspeople backed away, no one wanting to mess with the famous Van Helsing. Even the undertaker's eyes had widened.

"M sent word of your coming," said Anna. To Van Helsing she said with a smile, "Your reputation precedes you."

His reply was gruff as he refused to play along with her.

"Next time, stay close. You're no good to us dead."

"I'll say this for you: you've got courage." She turned to her people and raised her voice. "He's the first one to kill a vampire in over a hundred years. I'd say that's earned him a drink."

She had a coy look in her eyes when she said this. I frowned, because that look was directed at Van Helsing. I began to wonder just how the relationship between these two was going to develop, but I was distracted when Dr. Jekyll came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Thank you for saving my life, Ghost Wolf."

I shrugged him off. "Call me Gabriel. No big deal. Happy to do it."

"But it is a big deal," he insisted. "Without you, that vampire would have killed me."

"You were doing a pretty good job of fending her off yourself," I muttered, staring at my boots. Why was he making such a big deal about this?

"I would have lost sooner or later. Why are you being so modest?"

I shrugged again.

"I dunno. Maybe it's because I never saved someone's life before, and then have them thank me for it."

"Well, I thank you very much for it."

"You're welcome, I guess," I said, glad as hell that he turned away to offer Mrs. Harker his arm. Now he would leave me alone. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate his thanks; I was happy he'd taken the time to do so, but it was rather embarrassing that he'd done it in front of everyone, and then didn't shut up about it. Maybe that wouldn't have been a problem for some people, but I'm a pretty shy person when it comes to thanks, so to have someone go on and on about something I'd just done was just a little aggravating to me.

But maybe that was just me.

Princess Anna motioned us to follow her, and we obeyed. Quatermain stood aside until I drew level with him, then he let loose on me.

"You bloody fool! You've jeopardized the entire mission! What were you thinking? Now the entire town will think we're in league with Dracula!"

"They will not!" I protested. "No one saw me! And anyway, I turned into a wolf because I was protecting Jekyll. I can't fight these things in human form."

"Why didn't you let one of us take care of it?"

"I didn't see anyone else moving to help him. No one else was in sight, and I wasn't just gonna let him die."

What did you have to do to get a hero's recognition around here? I thought I'd done the right thing, but it had gone and blown up in my face. Could I please anyone around here? Come to think of it: could I please anyone anyway?

Quatermain opened his mouth to say more, but Kurt came to my rescue.

"Do not scold her so. She did what she thought was right. She was only trying to protect the good doctor."

Jekyll heard this, turned around and smiled. We smiled back, and Quatermain's face softened. It was three to one.

"Don't let it happen again."

He slouched off, and Kurt put his hand on my shoulder. What was it with the guys and putting their hands on my shoulder? Still, I grinned at him.

"Thanks for that, Kurt. Oh yeah, before I forget, thanks for saving me from those vampires. I think I'd be dead now, or maybe dying."

"Sure," he said. "I could not let them get you. The stories about your life are too interesting."

I chuckled over that.

"Well, I've got a bunch of them to tell you. And if I survive this, I think it'll be the best one yet."

"I think it is," he said, and we looked at each other. His eyes never turned away from mine, and our gaze held for longer than I was sure was normal. Feeling suddenly awkward, I dropped my eyes to look at the interesting shades of gray in the ground, then I looked up to see where we were going.

Princess Anna had led us to a place I could only assume was her castle. It probably wasn't as fancy as some of the other castles in Europe, but it was certainly grander than all the other buildings I had seen yet. Made of stone instead of wood, it towered over the little village. Off in the distance, I could see another castle, even bigger than the one before us now. I pointed this out.

"Princess!" I yelled to the front of the line where she was walking. She stopped so quickly that Karl ran into her and fell to the ground. Van Helsing hoisted him up with a disgruntled look on his face as she shouted back, "What?"

"What's that place over there?"

"That's Castle Frankenstein. It belonged to the late Dr. Victor Frankenstein. He died a little over a year ago."

"What happened to him?"

"He was killed by the monster he created."

I looked at Kurt. A monster? I didn't know anyone could create monsters. He looked back at me, and I could see in his yellow eyes that he was just as confused as I was. I would have pressed the issue further, but Anna had already turned around and was heading to the castle. When we entered the hall and into the armory, I could hear her interrogating Karl and Van Helsing at the front of the group.

"So how did you get here?"

"We came by sea," Karl replied.

"Really? The sea? The Adriatic Sea?"

"Yes."

Van Helsing interrupted them.

"So where do we find Dracula?"

"Yes," Karl agreed, realizing where the conversation should be going.

"He used to live in this very house. No one knows where he lives now. My father would stare at that painting for hours looking for Dracula's lair." She jerked her head to a huge tapestry on the wall. It was a map of Transylvania. "So, is that why you've come?"

"We can help you," said Van Helsing as Karl branched off to study the tapestry. He certainly seemed anxious to impress the woman. But she was keen to throw him off.

"No one can help me," she snorted.

"I can try," he pressed.

"You can die trying; all of my family has. I can handle this myself."

"So we noticed," said Quatermain.

She turned sharply at the jibe, brandishing a huge sword.

"The vampires attacked in daylight; they never do that! I was unprepared. It won't happen again."

At least she was honest. She sheathed the sword in its scabbard at her side as Quatermain asked her, "So why did they attack in daylight?"

"Clearly they wanted to catch me off guard. They seem almost desperate to finish off my family."

"Why is that? Why now?" Van Helsing put in suddenly.

She turned away to load a gun.

"You ask a lot of questions."

Quatermain glared at him. He shrugged and replied, "I usually ask only two: 'What are we dealing with,' and 'How do I kill it?'"

"My father spent his entire life looking for answers, year after year. Tearing through the tower, combing through the family archives…"

Her voice trailed off. She lost herself in thought as she searched for another weapon. As Van Helsing ordered Karl off to the tower, Kurt turned to me and whispered, "If she goes out there like that, the vampires will not need night vision to find her. They would be able to hear her ten miles off with all that metal on her belt."

I snickered, and Skinner said, "No one go near her with a magnet," causing all three of us to stifle our laughter behind our hands before Nemo turned to silence us with a glare.

"The only way to save your family is to stay alive until Dracula is killed," Van Helsing was saying as Princess Anna stuck a knife into her boot.

"And who will kill him if not me?" she snapped back. "Who will show courage if not me?"

"If you go out there now you'll be outmanned and out positioned."

"And you can't see in the dark," said Mrs. Harker. We all turned to where she was standing, at the very back of the line, the shadow on her face giving a mysterious sinister effect, even moreso than her alabaster skin in contrast with her dark red hair and bright green eyes did.

"In the morning we will hunt," said Van Helsing. She grabbed a mace and turned around, only to run right into him. His hand caught hers, the one that was holding the mace, and held. Suddenly, as though his touch was magical, all the anger floated out of her face, and her eyes became calm as he finished his sentence. "But we'll do it together."

It worked. After a moment's pause, she released her grip on the weapon and slipped her hand out from under his. Her eyes searched his face as she said, "Some say you're a murderer, Abraham Van Helsing. Others say you're a holy man. Which is it?"

I looked at Kurt, then at Skinner. They were as ignorant as I was, because they shrugged in reply and Kurt whispered, "It appears there is more to Herr Van Helsing than meets the eye." Skinner and I nodded.

His reply was, "It's a bit of both, I think."

She stepped closer to him, her voice becoming playful. "I promised you a drink."

"Yes you did," he said, his face lighting up as he recalled the promise.

"The bar is down the hall." She gestured with her head. "Help yourselves. As for me, I'm going to finish this once and for all."

She took her mace and headed back the way we'd come. We followed her, trying to make her change her mind.

"I'm sorry you have to carry this burden alone," said Van Helsing.

"On the contrary, I would wish for it no other way."

"And I'm sorry about your father and brother."

Her father had disappeared about a year ago, while out looking for Dracula, and her brother had been killed by a werewolf shortly before we were sent out.

"I will see them again. We Transylvanians always look on the brighter side of death."

"There's a brighter side of death?" I asked. I wondered if she would think so if she knew my experiences with the subject.

"Yes," she said to me. "It's just harder to see."

She had stopped at the armory door. Now, as she turned to leave, Van Helsing grabbed her shoulder. She spun around, and he sprayed something in her face. She collapsed immediately, but he caught her before she hit the ground.

"I'm sorry about that, too."

As he lifted her up in his arms, I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickle, and I asked sharply, "Where are you taking her?"

"Relax, Ghost Wolf. I'm just going to put her to bed. She'll sleep for a while, and we can't have her running around right now."

"A human in the dark is easy prey for a vampire," said Mrs. Harker. "She would be dead before she ever saw it coming."

We were silent for a minute, considering the possible fate of Princess Anna Valerios. Finally, Van Helsing took her off to the other rooms, and Quatermain said, "Thank you, Mrs. Harker."

She smiled, and her eyes flashed.

"My pleasure."

**Cute little Gabriel and Jekyll fluffiness there. **

**Need I say it again? You know what to do!**


	6. Chapter 5: For the Love of a Brother

**Wow, you guys really liked it! That's so awsome. Thanks so much for the support, guys! Elwydra, I'm honored to find myself on your favorites stories list, and even more honored that you say you love me. Anything to inflate my already big head. Heh, heh.**

**Anyway, I don't own any of the League members _(but Mrs. Harker and Jekyll are soooo hot!) _Van Helsing, Karl, Anna, Velkan, or the Undertaker, and I don't won Kurt Wagner either. Some of Kurt and Gabriel's lines here in this first scene were taken from the second X-Men movie, and Jekyll's struggle with Hyde is from LXG, so I don't own those either. And if you recognize it from the movie, it's not mine. But Gabriel is!**

A few hours later, we had all spread out to find rooms and settle down for the night. Kurt and I were sitting up in his room, neither one of us very sleepy. We had been talking about his life beyond the circus, and a small silence passed between us before he spoke again.

"You know, after I ran away from the circus, most people were afraid of me. But I didn't hate them. I pitied them. Do you know why?"

I shook my head.

"Because most people will never know anything beyond what they see with their own two eyes."

Interesting. I had never felt that way about the girls who'd made fun of me because of the way I looked. I'd always hated them.

"I gave up on pity a long time ago," I said bitterly.

He looked taken aback by the sharpness of my words, then reached out to touch my face. My head jerked back, because his hand was reaching for the scars on my cheek. I didn't like people touching those scars: I never had, but he didn't draw back, and held my cheek in his hand. I felt a strong urge to bite, but I figured one of the fastest ways to end a friendship was to slash the other party's hand to the bone, so I bit my tongue instead.

"Someone so beautiful should not be so angry," he said softly, gently.

"Anger will help you survive," I said, shrugging him off.

"So will faith," he answered, and I could not tear my eyes from his. At least, not until my sharp ears caught a noise, a noise coming from the door, which was slightly ajar.

I pulled off my boots so I would make no sound on the floor, and slipped out the door after the noise, Kurt at my heels.

The noise I'd heard was footsteps, and as I drew closer, I heard voices. It was Dr. Jekyll, and he wasn't alone.

"Just shut up," Jekyll was saying. "I won't be tricked again."

Another voice, more like a beast's growl than a voice, answered him.

"Tricked? You've know what I was about each time you drank the formula!"

"Liar! I'm a good man! A good man!"

"Who's lying now? You want it! Even more than you want…her!"

"No!"

Jekyll's voice was little more than a squeak now. Who was he afraid of? Who was this voice that was threatening him? And who was "her"? Surely it wasn't me.

"You can't shut me out forever!" said the voice, becoming gruffer, and angrier by the minute. "Drink the elixir!"

"No!" Jekyll's voice was louder this time.

I had to admit, the timid doctor was doing a good job standing up to his adversary. However, from the way things were starting to sound, if he stood up any longer, he was going to end up dog meat.

"She barely even looks at you!"

"Be quiet!"

I heard a yelp, and the footsteps stopped dead as the voice roared, "She'd look at me!"

Kurt and I rounded the corner, and found Jekyll with his hands around his own throat, staring up at something. But he was alone, and I knew the answer almost immediately.

"Dr. Jekyll!" I barked sharply.

He spun around, and his hands flew to his sides. He looked guilty, like a child who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, except his face and hair were drenched with sweat, and his eyes were still livid with terror.

"It's Hyde, isn't it?" I said.

"I am in control."

"I can see that." I raised my eyebrows. There was no mistaking the sarcasm in my voice.

He looked stung, and lashed back.

"Your talk is all well and good, Miss Gabriel, but your own past is far from laudable!"

He regretted it the moment the words were out of his mouth. I raised my eyebrows again, surprised he had the guts to say that. But he wasn't lying.

"Control him, doctor," I said softly. "I know you have the courage. Hyde is a part of you, isn't he?"

"The strong part."

He sounded like he was going to cry.

"Thinking like that is only going to make him stronger. Don't make the mistake I made, and learn to control the beast. Don't let the beast control you."

A silence descended upon the three of us like a cloak. No one said anything, because there was nothing to say. Or rather, there was so much to say, but no one could think of where to begin. Then there was a bang that made us all jump as it echoed down the hall. I pinpointed the source of the sound.

"That came from the armory."

We all looked at each other, two words on our minds.

"Princess Anna!"

And we took off down the hall, me in the lead. We weren't sure why we were running, what we were running to or what we would find when we got there, but as we neared the armory, a musky, wet smell reached my nose, and the hairs prickled along my body. Danger.

We pulled the door open, and rushed in. I froze, and the others ran into me, knocking me into a heap on the floor.

"SSSH!" I hissed at them. I sniffed the air. "There's something here. And it's not just the princess." Sure I smelled Anna, but that heavy, animal odor was definitely not hers.

The hairs were already growing on my arms and legs as I shed the robe. Transformed, I motioned the guys to follow me with my head, and we set off at a stalk. I crouched low to the ground, following Anna's scent on the floor. The others were following my example, crouched as low as possible without falling over, and creeping along as quietly as they could. Jekyll's shoes still made taps on the floor every time he took a step, but I couldn't get too ruffled about that. It wasn't like I was being very quiet either, with my clicking toenails against the ornate tile. Somehow though, our presence went unnoticed.

I followed my nose to Anna's exact location. In only a few minutes, I led them around a stand of swords where I stopped dead, and they ran into me. They regained their footing, and peered around to see what I was staring at.

Princess Anna was leaning against the wall, and a man was standing in front of her. He was naked and dripping wet with the rain that was pouring heavily outside. They were talking in low urgent voices, but my sharp ears could hear them.

"Anna, I only have a moment," the man was saying. Anna started saying something, but he was still speaking, and neither one of them would shut up for the other, so their voices became a jumble of panicked words and sounds. In the midst of the noise, I caught a name: Velkan. Apparently, the others did too, because Kurt turned to Jekyll and whispered, "Who is that?"

"He's Anna's brother," replied the doctor. "I don't understand; Quatermain said he died a few weeks ago in a werewolf attack. He must have survived."

After hearing that, I realized that the animal odor I had been smelling was coming from him, and suddenly, the circumstances of our situation hit me full. We were all in grave danger. I began growl and the hackles from my neck all the way down to my tail raised. Every muscle in my body tensed, and I bared my teeth. Kurt felt my hostility and gently put his hand on my head.

"What is the matter, Gabriel?" he asked softly.

I continued to growl, looking as hard as I could in Velkan's direction, hoping that they would see what I saw. I was about to bark to alert Anna as well, but before I could, the moon reappeared through a break in the clouds, and Velkan choked on whatever he had been saying, something about Dracula's secret. He backed away from Anna, making a horrid gagging noise until he hit the wall on the other side.

"No!" the princess cried, and her brother reached up and began to pull himself up the wall.

This time I barked, sprang forward, and ran towards him. I would have killed him, or at least tried, but by the time I got there, he was too high up the wall for me to reach. Frustrated, I stepped back, and the four of us stared in horror as Velkan writhed and moaned, the cracking of his bones the base line of his painful concerto. His growls became less human, his skin came off in strips, fell to the floor and disintegrated, and he grew bigger and more muscular. Two ears appeared on top of his head, his body covered with matted brown hair, his eyes turned a sickly yellowish green, and he was probably the most disgusting thing I'd ever seen. Though I wasn't quite positive, I was sure that even Jekyll's Mr. Hyde was better than this.

"Dear God," I heard Jekyll breathe. "He's a werewolf."

I barked. Ha! They called that a werewolf? That ugly slime that was walking on two legs like a man? Such scum was not worthy of the majestic title of "werewolf"! I snorted, and set up a barrage of barking at the creature.

Just then, there was a gunshot, and the werewolf jumped from his perch on the wall, smashing through the window into the pouring rain.

Van Helsing ran after it onto the balcony, but it was too far away for him too shoot again. It had crossed the river and was heading back into the town.

With the wolf out of the way, Van Helsing turned to the princess, who was flattened against the wall, eyes wide, breathing hard in shock.

"Anna? Are you all right? Anna!"

He slapped her gently on the face. She jerked, but didn't look at him. Her face was streaked with tears. She wasn't the only one. Jekyll had sunk to his knees in terror, still trembling, and Kurt was standing stiff as a board, his golden eyes staring at the broken window. I walked over and nudged his hand. My cold nose on his fingers brought him around, and he scratched me behind the ears.

Karl, who must have been awakened by the gunshots, the screams, and my barking, joined us. He sniffed the air, then asked, "Why does it smell like wet dog in here?"

Van Helsing abandoned Anna, and ran towards his little monk friend.

"Werewolf!"

"Ah, right!" He pulled a cartridge from a pouch that hung on his belt. "You'll be needing silver bullets." He tossed the cartridge to Van Helsing, who caught it easily and took off for the armory door. "Well done!"

"Where's he going?" Jekyll asked, getting to his feet and wobbling as though he were about to fall again. Kurt reached out to steady him.

"To do what he does best," replied Karl. "Hunt and kill."

Those words snapped Anna back into action. She jumped away from the wall, and began running after him. She ran into Jekyll and Kurt, pushing them violently out of her way, knocking Jekyll to the floor again.

"Wait a minute," Karl began, but she yelled, "I won't let him kill my brother!"

As Kurt helped Jekyll to his feet, Karl looked around at the rest of us.

"Now what do _we_ do?"

I would have begun spouting out orders, but I was in wolf form, and had no vocal cords. This time, it was Kurt who took action.

"Karl, Jekyll, go rouse the rest of the League. Inform them of what has happened but tell them to wait here. Gabriel, you come with me. We must make sure Princess Anna does not get in the way."

Now we were talking! I barked happily as he took off at a run for the door. I followed closely on his heels, and we both headed after the hunter and the princess.

* * *

We eventually caught up with them in the town cemetery. The rain had stopped, and now it was just snowing. As we slunk through the feathery flakes, I looked around at all the graves and thought, _What a fitting place to be hunting, and what a fitting place to end a life._ We couldn't see Van Helsing anywhere, but a dark shape in front of us made us crouch into the shadow of (ick!) some coffins that were leaning against the side of a building.

It was Princess Anna.

"Stay here," Kurt said softly to me. "If I need you, I will call."

He crept out of the shadows up to the princess, then, wasting no time, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to the ground. They wrestled with each other for a few minutes then, (and I was amazed she managed this) her leg came up and she kicked him in the side of the head, knocking him over and loosening his hold on her. She wiggled free, got to her feet, and took off.

This time, it was my turn. I came ripping out of the shadows, caught up before she got ten feet, and closed my jaws around her ankle. She tripped and crashed to the ground, landing facefirst in the snow. I let her roll over so she could see what was attacking her, and I think this time she saw me full on. She probably had never seen a wolf like me before, and even I could not deny that I enjoyed the fear in her eyes. Taking care not to pierce her boots or her skin, I took her ankle in my jaws again, to prevent her from getting up and making Van Helsing's job more difficult.

I heard footsteps in the snow, and within seconds, Kurt had appeared and was holding her around the waist again, pinning her arms with one hand and holding the other across her mouth so she couldn't scream. Together we held her down, but she still continued to fight us.

"I am sorry, Princess," Kurt grunted as we struggled to hold her. "It is for your own good."

I began to realize that, sooner or later, I was probably going to cut her skin on accident. I couldn't hold her with my teeth, so I let go and pinned her legs down with my front paws. Then I lay down on them, so she still had a little freedom of movement, but she couldn't break free. We thought we had the situation under control.

Nope.

She wrenched one arm free, and before Kurt could grab it and pin it back, pulled a pistol from her belt and shot me right between the eyes. Kurt yelled and let go of her to run to me. He shouldn't have bothered; the bullet wasn't silver, and pushed itself out of the flesh and bone almost immediately, but it was enough. She wiggled out from under me, and took off again, this time at a more panicked pace.

Kurt knelt in front of me, his eyes already shining with blood tears.

"Gabriel," he whispered, and then he saw the wound heal. His eyes widened with surprise, then he smiled and said, "You are full of surprises, little Ghost Wolf."

He put his hand on my head, and I nuzzled his elbow. The action was supposed to be friendly, but when I looked back into his eyes there was a tenderness in them that, even myself knew was much more than friendship. I was confused by that look, and not sure what to think of it, but I had no time to think. A gunshot, and Anna's scream broke our thoughts, and both of us scrambled up to see what was the matter.

We heard Van Helsing yell, "Get out of the way!" and Anna cry, "No!" and when we found them, Van Helsing had Anna against a tombstone, one hand wrapped around her throat.

"You're choking me!" she snapped in a strangled voice.

"Give me a reason not to!" the assassin snarled back.

"I can't," she gasped. "If people knew…"

She stopped, and he let go of her.

"He's not your brother anymore, Anna!" he yelled, the frustration obvious in his voice though he had turned his back to us. I realized what had happened. He must have tried to shoot the werewolf, but Anna had stopped him. Now it was no wonder he had wanted to strangle her.

Kurt took a step forward, probably to join the conversation, but I grabbed a handful of his sleeve in my mouth and held him back. My eyes told him, _Don't interrupt them._ Something was telling me that this was a private moment between the princess and Van Helsing, and they were not to be disturbed.

"You knew?" Anna was saying, a hurt look of betrayal in her eyes.

"Yes."

His voice was heavy, as though he regretted telling her.

Suspicion was clouding her eyes now. "Before or after I stopped you from shooting him?"

"Before," he replied.

She pushed him violently, but it didn't do much.

"And still you tried to kill him!"

"He's a werewolf; he's gonna kill people!"

"He can't help it! It's not his fault!"

"I know, but he'll do it anyway!"

"Don't you understand forgiveness?"

Her voice had softened, and there were tears in her eyes.

"I have heard of it," he answered, his voice quieter, but no less cold.

The princess stared at him for a minute, as though she couldn't believe someone could be so cruel. Then, realizing she couldn't go any farther with this, changed the subject.

"They say Dracula has a cure. If there's a chance I can save my brother, I'm going after it!"

She started to walk away, but he grabbed her arm.

"I need to find Dracula!"

"And I need to find my brother!" she shouted back, her voice wild with desperation. "He's the only family I have left." Now, her voice was little more than a sob. "I despise Dracula more than you can ever imagine. He has taken everything from me, leaving me alone in this world."

She turned away again, the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. He gave a small sigh of exasperation, and turned away as well. For a few moments, nothing was said. Then…

"I suppose," Van Helsing began slowly. "To have memories of those you've loved and lost is…perhaps harder than to have no memories at all." He turned to face Anna, who had also turned. "All right. We'll look for your brother."

I couldn't believe my ears. The man who had been shouting moments before had been subdued? I looked up at Kurt, and he was surprised too. However, we didn't have much time to think on it, because the next words out of his mouth were, "But first, let's get back to the castle. I'm sure some of the League members would be glad to help out." and Kurt and I had get the hell out of there, knowing that both Van Helsing and the princess would be very angry if they knew we had been listening to their conversation.

* * *

We reached the castle only moments before Van Helsing and Anna did, and I barely had time to grab my robe from the armory and change back into a human before anyone noticed. Remember, Anna didn't know I was a werewolf, and she probably assumed that what had attacked her in the cemetery was probably a very large local wolf, not one of the people who had been sent up to help her. For my sake, and for the rest of the League, I hoped she wouldn't bring it up. 

The League members congregated in some sort sitting room when Van Helsing called. Some were wide-eyed and anxious, like Jekyll, but others, like Quatermain and Nemo, looked cranky and downright tired. After all, we'd all had a long day, and no one wanted to be up in the middle of the night when we all could have been sleeping.

Van Helsing and Anna stood up at the front of the room, facing us. With his thumbs hooked into his big belt and his hat on his head, he looked more like an American rogue than a leader to me, but no one asked for my opinion.

"I need a few League members to come with me and Princess Anna. We're going to be looking for a werewolf, who happens to be her brother." At the chorus of whispers, he nodded. "Yes. Contrary to what we were led to believe, Prince Velkan survived the werewolf attack, but at a price. He is now a werewolf, and we must get to him before Dracula's hold consumes him." He pointed at me and Kurt. "We could use you two, especially your nose, Ghost Wolf. Skinner, Quatermain, you come too. Everyone else, stay here in case he comes back."

"One moment, if you please," said a cold voice. Mrs. Harker seemed to melt out of the shadows. "I would like to come too."

"The forest is no place for a lady," said Quatermain roughly.

Her eyes flashed red out of Anna's line of vision, and the grizzled hunter quickly changed his mind.

"But, for a lady such as yourself…" he said, and her eyes changed back to green.

"We'll stay here and hold the fort until you return," Jekyll piped up, and I had to smile at the figure he cut. It would be just him, Nemo, Karl and Gray staying behind. I hoped that the werewolf would not come back, but that they had the strength and the courage to defend themselves if it did.

Then again, if Velkan did come back, and he decided to kill and eat Dorian Gray, I didn't think I would have a problem. I'd had half a mind to do it myself, and blame it on Dracula. I didn't know why I shouldn't. All he did was sit around and make snide comments. He was no use to any of us, and I still didn't know what he had to offer the League. Maybe nothing, now that I thought about it.

I couldn't think long, because the click of a pistol being loaded distracted me. Anna was holding one out to Jekyll, who was looking at it as though it would grow jaws and bite him.

"Take it," she said. "Just in case."

And the doctor's thin, white fingers closed on the handle.

"Thank you, princess."

**You want more? You know what to do!**


	7. Chapter 6: Discovery

**Yeah! I'm on a roll, baby! Next chapter, full of vampires, secrets,...and ALCOHOL! **

**I only own Gabriel, and if it's from the Van Helsing, LXG, or X-2 movies, it ain't mine! I'm getting really tired of saying this, and I don't think Kurt really has poisonous spines in his tail. Creative liberty by yours truely.**

We were walking in the snow.

Well, everyone else was walking. I was crawling on my hands and knees, my nose barely an inch from the ground, trying to detect Velkan's scent. The rain made this very difficult, having washed away most of the scent, but we found footprints in the newly fallen snow, and there were tufts of hair here and there. Kurt and I were in the front, and we could hear Anna and Van Helsing talking behind us.

"For me, this is all personal. It's all about family and honor. Why do you do it, this job of yours?"

"I don't know. Some sort of self-realization, I guess."

"What have you got out of it so far?"

"Nightmares."

I heard their footsteps stop, and the rustle pf pine needles. Van Helsing must have found another piece of hair, because a moment later, I heard Anna say, "Werewolves only shed before their first full moon: before the curse has completely consumed them."

I snorted audibly. Who did she think she was? A werewolf expert? Ha! I was a werewolf, and I have never shed my fur, even when I was young. The curse completely consumed me within a week of the bite, and I can assure you the only hair I've ever shed was the human hair on my head, whose natural color I can no longer remember.

However, I'd seen stranger things, and maybe there was some truth to Anna's words as well as mine. Maybe there were different types of werewolves, just like humans have different races. The werewolves here were nothing like myself or the rest of the werewolves in America. The idea that there were different races of werewolves was a definite possibility.

Come to think of it, after all I had encountered, anything was possible. I thought about all the things I'd seen over the past two weeks: Nemo's ship, Kurt, the flying vampire women, and suddenly, the idea that there was more than one type of werewolf didn't sound that far-fetched.

"Gabriel," Kurt whispered, breaking my thoughts. I looked up at him.

He motioned back with his hand, and I saw that Van Helsing and Anna were urging me to pick up the pace. I obeyed, and as I moved quickly across the snow, I found that the scent, which had been faint at first, grew stronger and stronger with every step. I guessed the tracks had been made less than an hour ago. We were getting close.

We pressed onward, me not looking where I was going, and after a few minutes, I heard Kurt gasp, "_Mein Gott!"_ and I looked up.

In front of us, several feet away, stood a castle more grand and magnificent than the one Anna lived in. While her place had only one tower, this had several, five or six at least, a moat and a drawbridge, which was down, as though the residents were expecting company. I squinted my eyes. Velkan's tracks led up to the door.

Suddenly, as if as one, we all jumped forward at a brisk run.

"What is this place?" Quatermain asked Anna.

"Castle Frankenstein," replied the princess. "But it should be abandoned."

Abandoned it was not, for in the windows above us, we could see lights flashing. Someone, or something, was up there.

"I don't understand," Anna was saying. "The man who lived here was killed a year ago." With a growl of spite, she added, "Grave robber, among other things."

But Quatermain wasn't listening to her. His mind was elsewhere.

"A year ago," he mused. "That's just about the time your father went missing."

"Yes," she replied. "He was looking for Dracula. He was on his way to the sea." Her voice became dreamy, and her face had a faraway look on it. "I've never been to the sea." Her eyes lost focus. "I bet it's beautiful."

I would have told her that the harbor in New York was anything but beautiful, but I held my tongue. We were not to reveal anything about ourselves, after all.

We all looked at each other. There was no telling what was awaiting us in that supposedly abandoned castle where the werewolf tracks had lead us. But I had a gut feeling, and I was sure the others did too, that there was more than werewolves hiding within its twisted corridors.

We were so right.

We were in some sort of dining hall, barely twenty feet from the front doors when movement on the other side made us stop dead, then duck underneath the table and surrounding chairs.

"Duergi," I heard Anna whisper.

"Dwergy?" said Van Helsing, raising an eyebrow. I was with him. What the hell were those things?"

"Dracula's servants," explained the princess. "They don't look like much, but they're extremely vicious. If you get the chance to kill one, do it, because they'll do worse to you."

She was right: they didn't look like much. They stood between three and five feet tall, fat, dumpy-looking and very clumsy as they carried a huge bundle of wires between the four of them. I couldn't tell what the material of their clothing was; it was like nothing I had ever seen before, and it covered them from head to toe. They all had goggles over their eyes, and I had a nasty feeling there was a reason for that. They didn't look dangerous, but I was willing to bet they had imaginations to make up for their poor physique. I shivered and tried not to think about what they did to those who crossed their paths intending to kill them and failed.

We stayed hidden until they disappeared out another door, their voices echoing behind them.

"They say they are using my brother in some sort of experiment," said Anna.

I frowned at her. How did she understand what they were saying? It sounded like a load of garbled gibberish to me. I looked at Kurt, and he shrugged. He didn't understand them either.

Anna started forward to follow them, but Quatermain grabbed her elbow to stop her.

"My brother is still battling the sickness within him," she protested. "There is still hope!"

"Anna," said Van Helsing, then his voice trailed off. There was a helpless look in his eyes as he turned to the rest of us for help. I nodded. I knew what he wanted to say.

"There is no hope for your brother," I said softly.

She made a small noise in her throat.

"But we can still protect others by killing Dracula," said Skinner brightly, trying to distract her from the horrific fate that awaited her brother.

It did no good. Tears began to flow down her face as she let what I'd said sink in. Then she turned to me, her eyes livid with rage.

"What would you know? You're just a girl! How can you tell me that my brother has no chance of surviving the Curse of the Werewolf?"

I felt the pressure of Kurt's cold hand over mine. I looked at him, and no words passed between us. I can't describe to you what his eyes said to me, but I knew what they meant. I pulled my hood off, and faced the princess.

"Because I am one," I said, and a bolt of lightening illuminated my yellow eyes.

There was silence as the roll of thunder that followed faded away. Anna's eyes, no longer filled with tears, widened, and she slowly shrank away from me in horror. She ran into Van Helsing, and stopped there. Finally, Kurt broke the silence.

"I suppose it would be very rude of me to continue to hide my face as well."

He reached up and pulled the hood of his own robe down. Another bolt of lightening flashed, and we heard the first few drops of rain hit the window. With his blue skin, scarred face, and tangled hair, he looked a fearsome sight, and it was no wonder Anna let out a gasp when she saw him. I had been half expecting a scream.

Kurt smiled, and didn't bother to hide his sharp teeth as he did so.

"That was a better reaction than many women your age have when they see me for the first time. Many just faint right away."

Anna didn't speak. She just stared from me to Kurt, a mixture of terror and wonder on her face.

"But they're not evil," said Skinner. He must have read her face. "We keep them around because their powers might come in handy."

He grinned apologetically at us, but I was in no mood to punch him. Instead I waited quietly for the horrified princess to speak.

"But," she paused, not sure what to say, then, "If you say they are not evil, then I should believe you. But I do not know if I can trust you yet; we've only just met. How do I know you mean no harm, and what _are_ you?"

Kurt hung his head.

"I know I frighten you. I do not know what I am. I was born this way. Please do not be afraid, princess. I would never hurt you. God would never forgive me."

She was touched by his gentle voice, but her suspicion of me would not be easily swayed. However, we didn't have much time to try and sway her, because she regained some of her composure and asked, in a firm, clear voice, "How many of you are not human?"

Quatermain and Van Helsing looked at each other, then at the rest of us. I shrugged, and Kurt said softly, "She deserves to know. We will not be able to work together if we cannot trust each other."  
"Wagner's right, Allan," said Skinner.

"I am a vampire," a cold voice began. We all jumped and turned to Mrs. Harker, who was sitting a little way off by herself. I had almost forgotten she was there. Her eyes flashed red at Anna, and her voice was a dangerous growl when she said, "And don't get snippy with me, princess. I was battling Dracula centuries before you were born."

I knew she was familiar with the vampire. It explained the nasty look on her face every time his name was mentioned. However, looking at her alabaster skin and emerald green eyes, I realized there was so much I didn't know about the mysterious vampiress.

"I'm invisible," said Skinner proudly, pulling off his glove so she could see. She frowned, but when he leaned over and pinched her nose, she was so surprised she burst out laughing. Maybe it was the stress of the job at hand, or maybe it was the desperate need to smile after long hours of frowning, but whatever reason, we all began laughing as well. Even the taciturn Mrs. Harker smiled. After a few minutes, we settled down, and Quatermain could speak.

"And Dorian Gray is an immortal."

"A what?" asked Princess Anna.

"What?" Kurt and I echoed together.

"An immortal," the grizzled old hunter repeated. "You cannot kill him, and he will never die. We've seen him shot a hundred times and he barely even flinched."

"Yeah. The wounds just healed right back up. Completely ruined his suit, though."

We all smiled again at Skinner's comment. For once, the jokester's remarks were appreciated.

"There is one way to kill him," said Mrs. Harker, and the whole mood changed. A chill swept through us all, and everyone visibly shuddered, even Van Helsing. She had our full attention, and she continued.

"There was a portrait painted of him many years ago. Though some sort of black magic, he and his portrait changed places, and now the portrait bears the brunt of his sins. It ages, while he stays fresh and young and beautiful. He cannot look upon it though, for the magic would be undone, and by now, after at least two hundred years, he would become a corpse, halfway rotted and disgusting. So he keeps it hidden somewhere in his home where no one can look at it and see the hideousness of his soul."

Silence followed her little speech. I made myself a mental note to find where that painting was hidden. Once this quest was over, I was sure it would come in handy someday.

A loud roar broke our thoughts, and we all looked around to see where the sound had come from. When it died, we looked at each other, and Quatermain began to scramble out from under the table.

"Time to move," he said.

Moving the chairs so we could get out made being quiet difficult, but we managed without making a huge amount of noise, and soon we had passed through the doorway where the duergi had gone half an hour ago, in hopes of catching up with them so we could find her brother, and maybe Dracula as well.

However, we were too far behind, and we took several wrong turns, ending up completely lost. We turned a corner, and found ourselves in a vast chamber filled with vile looking sacs that hung from the ceiling and walls. They dripped with a yellowish-white goo and green slime glistened on the sides. The sight itself was enough to make the humans puke, but they didn't have as good a nose as I did, and therefore they couldn't smell what I could. It was a smell that made every hair on my body stand on end. The smell of death was something I was used to, but this was different, something fouler and more frightening. Evil death.

The others were looking around with similar faces of disgust. Only Van Helsing remained remotely composed.

"You ever see things like this before?"

We all shook our heads, and Anna said, "What do you think they are?"

"Offspring."

"Of course," she said. "Vampires are the walking dead. It only makes sense that their children are born dead."

"If they're the walking dead," I said, frowning as I poked one of the things. "I'm surprised they can have children at all."

"Dead or otherwise," Kurt finished, sticking out his red tongue at the squishing sounds the sac made under my finger.

"Well, he's obviously trying to bring them to life," said Van Helsing, running his gloved hand along a bundle of wires attached to the sacs. I hadn't noticed them before. I knew they were for electricity, but it was going to have to be a huge amount in order to bring something to life. I'd heard of such things before, and it didn't sound impossible.

We looked at the path before us, a path that led right through the thick of things, so to speak. No one moved, and Skinner cleared his throat.

"Ladies first."

If looks could kill, the invisible man would have suffered serious injuries from the three of us. When we didn't move, Van Helsing sighed and started forward, and the rest of us followed behind in a single file line: Princess Anna, Skinner, Quatermain, Mrs. Harker, myself, and Kurt bringing up the rear. We pushed our way through the inanimate vampire children, trying hard not to gag out loud as the goo and slime brushed onto our clothes and skin, caught in our hair and got under our nails. I wondered how much longer we would have to put up with this, and if we went on like this, we would come out so covered in refuse we would end up resembling the sacs themselves. We finally did emerge into a little open space, a clearing you could call it, and immediately Kurt, Skinner and I became occupied with brushing each other off. Van Helsing's chilling words however, stopped us.

"Dracula and his brides only kill one or two people a month. But if he brings all these things to life…"

He didn't finish his sentence, but he didn't need to. Looking around, we saw and knew his implication. There were hundreds of these things hanging around, enough to form an army. Good God, if all these things woke up, they could wipe out the entire village below in a single feeding. And then, once they were finished with that, they would move on to…hell, they'd be all over Europe within weeks. Then it hit me: that was Dracula's plan.

"He'll use them to destroy humanity," I said.

"And control the Earth," said Quatermain

"With all these things, he could kill every last man, woman, and child in the world inside of a year," Skinner mused softly.

"He wouldn't do that," said Mrs. Harker.

We all turned to look at her, and Anna said, "How do you know that?"

"She's right," said Van Helsing. "You can't trust what he'll do."

"I can," said Mrs. Harker. "If he's smart, he won't kill every human on the face of the Earth. To do so would doom him and his children as well."

"How?" I asked.

She looked at me like I was a child.

"Surely you would understand more than anyone else here aside from myself."

I frowned at her, showing I had no idea what she was talking about. She sighed, and rolled her eyes.

"The one attribute vampires and werewolves share is their need for blood. If Dracula and his happy family were to kill every last human being in the world, he would cut off his entire food supply. So, they might become rulers of the Earth, but they would starve to death because there'd be nothing for them to feed upon. No, I do not think humanity faces its extinction yet."

"But still," said Kurt in a thin voice. "He will slaughter millions before he is in control."

"Maybe that is his plan," said Quatermain. "And he will imprison the rest for food, much like the way we do cattle."

We all looked at each other in horror as the weight of what was most likely afoot descended upon us. It would be the end of the world as we knew it. Thousands of people would die, first in the battle to rule the world, then later, to feed himself, his wives, and all of their filthy brood. I chewed on my nails nervously, and then a thought struck me that chilled me to the bone and made my throat tighten in fear. What would become of freaks like me and Kurt? I looked at him, but he had his back turned and couldn't see me. I was a werewolf and would probably be hunted down and forced into the Count's servitude, but what about Kurt? Would he suffer the same fate? Or worse, would he be seen as a threat and killed? I bit my lip at the thought, and tasted blood. I told myself that it was highly unlikely because he had those teleportation powers and would be very hard to capture, but still. It was not an impossibility.

We had a serious problem on our hands.

I blinked, and the slight swinging of the sac in front of me brought me back to the present. Watching it, I realized we had one thing on our side. Dracula's children were still dead, so unless he had something that could generate an enormous amount of electricity in one sitting, the instruments of the world's demise were completely useless. I smiled bitterly as I kicked the thing in front of me, then gagged as my boot came away covered in greenish-yellow ooze. I wanted to laugh; I wasn't sure why, but I held my tongue. Perhaps wisely too, now that I think about it.

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and Kurt put a cold hand on my back.

"Are you all right?" he whispered, the breath that brushed my cheek warm in contrast to his hand. I turned to him.

"I don't know," I said. "I'm trying to decide if Dracula's plan is sheer genius, or sheer stupidity."

"It would be harmful if it were to succeed," he agreed. "But if he cannot bring his children to life, then his plan is doomed."

"Let's hope the latter," I said, then a noise from farther up in the castle made us turn our heads. I can't describe it, because I'd never heard it before, but the closest I can come up with is a buzz of some sort. We saw light come down the bundles of wires, and soon it was all around us, crackling and flashing with such intensity that we shrank together. It startled me especially, because of a wolf's natural fear of light and fire, even though I myself wouldn't have been afraid. Seeing me upset, Kurt held onto me in a protective effort, but so intent was he on shielding me with his body that he nearly drove me to my knees. The noise and the lights were only startling, not frightening, but what happened after them was.

The sacs around us began to move.

They squirmed and pulsed as the baby vampires inside them tried to get out. The sight of the previously inanimate objects suddenly becoming animate wasn't repulsive enough; the sounds they made were even worse. It sounded like someone was trudging slowly through deep mud and trying to avoid sinkholes. I supposed the young vampires were just getting used to living. After a few seconds though, they stopped.

As strung out as our nerves were, it was no surprise we jumped when Van Helsing touched one of the sacs and it sparked. It made Anna jump stumble backward into another sac, and that sparked as well. We began to settle down when nothing else happened, and Van Helsing pulled off one of his gloves.

"What are you doing?" said Anna.

"Going to see what we're up against."

He dug his fingers into the sac, and right away green slime began to ooze out. After ripping a hole roughly twice the size of his fist, he caught some of the slime in his hand and threw it to the side. He dug deeper, and something that looked like a mixture of raw eggs and snot fell into his hand, which he also threw to the side, twice because there was so much of it. Repulsed as we were, we could not help but close in, our curiosity overpowering our disgust as we crowded around to see what it was. We all held our breaths. It was deathly quiet, which I think was fitting, given the circumstances. Only Van Helsing spoke.

"So this is what you get when vampires mate."

He reached out to touch the creature inside, and the instant he did, it moved. Its eyes popped open and a sound like a rat squeaking underwater emitted from its mouth. It did this so suddenly that we all jumped back with a single cry of surprise. Then I heard that crackling, buzzing noise again, and another wave of light came racing down the wires. I realized in horror that this was the electricity.

Dracula had brought his children to life.

Sure enough, when the light touched the sacs, they burst open with a splat and a shower of green slime. The young vampires took their first breath of life (life?) and we were faced with our foe, awake and moving.

If I'd thought the vampire brides were hideous, they were nothing compared to this. While Dracula's wives still looked remotely human in monster bat form, these things looked like they belonged in a completely different universe.

Though small, they were bigger than I had originally thought. They were probably between one and a half and two feet tall, with skinny arms and legs and talons on their three-fingered hands and feet. They were bluish-gray like their mothers when they were in bat form, and their small, leathery wings looked too weak to hold them up, but they flapped and flapped, and did their job surprisingly well. They had severely misshapen heads, huge black eyes and a mouthful of sharp, spiky teeth. From that mouth it was screeching its watery squeak at us, but it didn't do anything more. At first I was confused, but then I realized that it had just been born, and probably didn't know that we were food. So, at the moment, we were safe, but for how long?

"Jesus, that's ugly," I said as the vampire flapped away. Everyone else nodded, and even Kurt was not offended that I'd used the Lord's name in vain. As we huddled together, the little vampires swirled around us, creating gusts of wind that caught our hair and stirred it. Most of them didn't even look at us, probably because they were too busy figuring out what they were and getting their little wings to work properly. Some were having more success than others. But one got too curious for his own good.

I shouldn't say "he," because it could very easily have been a girl, but it was impossible to tell on these things. "It" broke away from the others and came flapping around our heads, squeaking curiously. At first we just stood there, not sure what to do or what to expect. However, when it got too close to me and squeaked in my face, I raised my arm and batted it away, hoping it would get the message and go back to its siblings, but I was so wrong. Instead, I made it angry.

It screeched furiously, its little feelings hurt, flew backwards a few feet, then shot towards me like an arrow from a bow. I braced myself for the attack and bared my fangs. I snarled, confident I could take on this little bully.

I had been meaning to use my teeth against him, but they weren't needed. Instead, the stupid thing's eyeball connected with my right fist, and that was enough. Squeaking angrily and temporarily blinded, it flapped away, probably to get used to the idea of embarrassment.

I started to laugh, then a noise behind me made me whirl around. Another little vampire who had obviously been watching, was headed for the back of my head. I pulled my fist back to punch it, but then there was a snap like a whip, a blue blur flashed in front of me, and the baby vampire dropped out of the air like a stone. I saw two long, thin gashes in its small chest, the skin around them quickly turning a nasty purplish color. The vampire was writhing and twitching, squeaking in agony and clutching at the wounds. And then, almost instantly, its body seized up, then went limp and stopped moving. It swelled, then exploded into a puddle of green slime.

"Now ain't that pretty," Skinner commented, but no one laughed. We were all stunned by what we'd seen, and filled with wonder at what had caused that.

"Are you all right?" Kurt asked me.

I was surprised at the violent way the little thing had died, but at least I wasn't dead.

"Sure, I'm fine," I said. "But what the hell happened to him?"

"The barbs on my tail," he said, grabbing a hold of said appendage and showing me. "They are poisonous."

When I'd first seen him, unconscious on the church floor, I remembered noticing them, the little spikes on four sides of his tail. I'd thought then that they were dangerous, and now I knew for sure.

"I found out in a fight trying to defend myself. The man just came at me: you know how humans will attack anything that does not look like them. I just slapped him across the face with my tail, entirely on instinct. I did not even think, and I did not know." He paused for a moment to take a breath. "He took a lot longer to die than that vampire did. I will never forget the look on his face." He shuddered. "He just stared at me in horror as his bloodstream carried the poison to his heart."

His voice died away, and he looked so miserable that I had to feel sorry for him. Tentatively, I touched his wrist with a fingertip, and when he looked up, I saw red sparkling in his eyes.

"I have never been so frightened in my life. I ran away as fast as I could."

"It's all right," I said. "No use crying over spilled blood."

He looked at me.

"What?"

I realized that he probably didn't understand my own variation on the expression, so I said, "Never mind."

We had a bigger problem anyway. Two familiar voices, screaming with wild pleasure, echoed through the chamber. We all looked up, then ducked on impulse as Dracula's remaining wives swooped over our heads and headed for the windows, their young trailing after them.

"This is where I come in!" yelled Van Helsing, pulling a gun from inside his coat. The man was bristling with weapons. He aimed the gun, and began to shoot into the crowd of departing vampires. I heard a noise between a hiss and a growl, and turned to see Mrs. Harker rip a struggling creature in half. She screamed at me and Kurt, "Kill them while they are vulnerable! Princess!"

She grabbed Anna forcibly around the waist and threw her towards the staircase from which we'd entered, now clearly visible without the hundreds of sacs in the way.

"Find your brother!" Mrs. Harker shouted, and Anna did not need to be told twice. "You too!" she yelled at Quatermain and Skinner. "Go with her!"

They, also fearing the vampiress' wrath, took off after the princess' retreating back.

"And don't get killed!" She rounded on me and Kurt. "What are you two gaping at? Kill them!" Her eyes were as red as rubies, and her fangs looked two inches long.

I launched myself into the midst of flapping wings and sharp teeth, now thinning out as the baby vampires followed their mothers. Still, I managed to catch one in my hands. It struggled against me and squeaked angrily, then I sank my teeth into its tiny neck. I had been expecting a foul taste, and I got one. I released it quickly, and twisted its head around until I heard the bones crunch. I dropped it dead at my feet where it dissolved into green slime. I heard the whip-like crack of Kurt's tail behind me, and an agonized squeal. Van Helsing felled two with one bullet, and Mrs. Harker was a whirlwind of death. Thanks to us, at least twenty or so of Dracula's children never saw the moon.

Van Helsing shot the last one, which exploded into green slime just like the others, and we turned to look at the dark figure standing on the balcony overlooking the room. I realized that we were looking at Dracula, and I saw the infamous vampire for the first time.

Because he was so far away, I couldn't tell exactly how tall he was, but he didn't look short, either. He had long, smooth black hair, brown eyes, and an oval face. The lines in the corners of his eyes and his mouth set his age somewhere between thirty-five and forty, but his eyes were alight with the flame of eternal youth. He was dressed in a heavy black cloak, probably to ward off the night's chill, and he was very handsome, but I couldn't let myself be bothered with that. That was probably how he entranced his victims, or at least his female ones.

Van Helsing's voice jerked me out of my thoughts.

"Now that we have your attention," he called up to the vampire.

Dracula cried with rage and hurled himself off the balcony. As I had supposed, he had a form he could change into just like his wives did, but I was not expecting this. And, by the sounds of those around me, they weren't either. What we saw made us all gasp in terror.

"Oh, Jesus!" I gasped, and once again, Kurt did not reprimand me.

"Run!" yelled Van Helsing.

I was only too happy to do so. The huge, bat-like shape sent us all scattering in different directions. I dove behind a pillar and hoped to God he hadn't seen me, although I wasn't all that sure that even God stood much of a chance against this thing. I heard crashes and bangs as things around the room were knocked over, then they stopped, and so did the flapping of his huge wings. I could see Dracula's shadow on the opposite wall, and as he landed, he grew smaller and the wings folded up and vanished. His voice though, made him sound as though he were still nine feet tall, echoing effortlessly around the room.

"I can tell the character of a man by the sound of his heartbeat," he said. His voice was dark and ominous, but at the same time, created a kind of lull in the air, and I was sure that, when he turned on the charm, he could be quite seductive.

He began clapping his hands together in the imitation of a heartbeat, getting faster and faster as he continued.

"Usually when I approach, I can almost dance to the beat!"

He could hear four (did Mrs. Harker have a heartbeat?) different sets of heartbeats. Would he use them to find out where we were all hiding? I all but choked on that thought. I looked down at my hand and saw that it was shaking. I was actually trembling with fear.

Dracula's makeshift heartbeats had slowed down.

"Strange that yours is so steady," he mused.

Well, he wasn't talking about me, then. My heart was beating so fast and hard I thought it was going to explode out of my chest. I started to breathe a sigh of relief, when there was a flash of lightening and his shadow disappeared. I felt sweat beginning to creep into my hairline. Where had he gone?

Suddenly, two strong, ice-cold hands clamped onto my shoulders behind me and I felt four fangs sink into my throat. At first, I was numb with shock, then a pain like nothing I'd ever felt before seared through my body. It was if molten fire was flowing through my veins instead of blood, and it hurt so much it brought tears to my eyes. I realized what was happening. In the lull that Dracula had created, he had caused us to put our guard down, and in that time, had nabbed the smallest, weakest prey of the four: me. In that knowledge, I struggled wildly against him, but it did no good. In fact, it made it even worse, because now I was tiring myself out, and the pain intensified.

_Surely,_ I thought, _this is dying. The vampire is drinking my blood and I'm going to die._ The thought took the life out of my legs.

I did the only thing I could to alert the others. I screamed.

There was a growl like a tiger somewhere to my left, and something crashed into me and Dracula, causing him to release his grip on me. I dropped to the floor where I lay, twitching uncontrollably. I opened my eyes. I couldn't see very clearly, but I knew it was Mrs. Harker who had saved my life. I heard panicked footsteps, and then Kurt's voice as he dropped to his knees beside me.

"Gabriel!" he cried, and I felt his warm hands against my face and neck. I heard him gasp, "You are so cold!"

_It's because I'm dying,_ I wanted to say, but I was too weak, and my lips would not form the words. A few feet away, I heard Dracula talking to Mrs. Harker.

"Mina. This is an unexpected surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Do not try to silver-tongue me this time, Vlad," she growled. "I'm not a foolish young girl anymore."

"Still as feisty as ever, Mina. But still so lovely."

"I am not your bride anymore. There is no need for you to speak to me this way."

I was stunned. Mrs. Harker, the cool, calculating vampiress, had been one of Dracula's brides? I'd never thought her to stoop so low, though she'd said she wasn't his wife anymore. Was there such thing as vampire divorce?

"Are you his wife now? That pretty immortal you left me for?"

She sniffed.

"I found Dorian as empty and as soulless as yourself. It seems that time wears the hearts out of you men. You're all the same after a few hundred years."

So, not only did Mrs. Harker know Dracula, but she knew Dorian Gray as well. I would have remarked on the fact that it was a small world, but I supposed that when you live forever, you all get to know each other after a while. Dracula bristled at her remark, and though my vision was swimming, I thought I saw a movement in the shadows. Van Helsing?

"I'm nothing like that vain, sniveling little peacock of a boy!"

"No," Mrs. Harker agreed. "Dorian has all the manners of a gentleman that you lack."

"Ouch," said Kurt under his breath, and he smiled. That smile, and Mrs. Harker's comment, brought a smile to my own lips.

There was a flash of silver, a sound of flesh being sliced, and a horrible, gurgling roar from Dracula as Van Helsing, who had crept up behind the vampire while he was talking to Mrs. Harker, plunged a silver stake into his heart.

"Go!" he yelled to the three of us, and Kurt pulled me up onto his back, though I could imagine my dead weight was pretty heavy.

"Mrs. Harker!" he called, and she turned, gathered her long, black skirt around her ankles, and came running after us. We took off the way we had come, wanting to put as much distance as possible between us and that monster. I felt bad for leaving Van Helsing behind, but he was trained for these situations, and it was probably in Kurt's nature to get us women out of danger. To him, if it came down to us or Van Helsing, he'd take us and leave Van Helsing behind. Besides, I was in no shape to fight. I was so weak I could barely keep my eyes open, and my muscles burned like fire. I was getting a headache, feeling light-headed from loss of blood. I was very sick, probably near death, and I was surprised I wasn't dead already. The amount of blood he had taken from me would have been enough to kill a human.

Maybe it was because I wasn't human that I had lasted this long.

"Follow me!" I heard Mrs. Harker say. "I know where Princess Anna and her brother might be!"

Too eager to get out of there, Kurt followed her. I closed my eyes and let my head drop onto his shoulder. My grip around his neck was weakening, and he could feel it.

"Hold on, Gabriel," he said, probably more to himself than to me. "Do not give up yet."

I'll never know exactly how long I was carried through those stone corridors, bouncing on Kurt's back like a Native American child in a papoose. I do know that after a while, he was beginning to wear out, for his breathing was getting heavier and more labored. I didn't think he could carry me much farther.

The good news was that the wounds in my neck had stopped bleeding, so I was in no danger of losing any more blood. Not right now, anyway.

Gradually, I became aware of buzzing and crackling sounds all around me, and I could see flashing lights through my eyelids. I opened my eyes and raised my head a little to see what was going on.

We were in a laboratory of some kind, with machines exploding and emitting showers of sparks all over the place. It reminded me of some of the factories we had in New York. I'd never been inside one, and I was a little frightened. I looked at Mrs. Harker, who was pointing upwards. Kurt and I looked up and saw a hole in the ceiling, where rain was falling on our faces, though it was a little more than a drizzle now.

"Take her with you," said Mrs. Harker, and with that she jumped up and began to scale the wall towards the ceiling. Being a vampire, this was easy for her.

Kurt turned his head and looked at me.

"Hold on," he said. Before I could wonder why, there was the gunshot bang. I blinked in surprise and when I opened my eyes, we were on the top of the roof, the rain falling gently on our heads. There was another strange metal apparatus next to us, something that looked unpleasantly like it was meant to strap someone down. After a couple of seconds, Mrs. Harker pulled herself out of the hole in the ceiling. She looked past our heads and cried, "Oh!"

Kurt spun around, taking me with him, and we saw Velkan, in werewolf form, leap off the side of the castle to grab a thin wire hanging in the air. We could see three shapes riding along it: Van Helsing and Princess Anna, Quatermain, and Skinner. They were holding onto bits of metal and using them as pulleys to carry themselves across the canyon. But the werewolf's weight snapped the wire, and all five of them were hurled out of our sight.

"Oh no," Mrs. Harker gasped as we raced to the edge. "We're too late!"

We looked over the side and saw Velkan plunging hundreds of feet through the air towards the river below. The others managed to keep their hold on the wire, and used it to swing to the ground and land safely on the other side of the river. When they got to their feet, we saw they were unhurt, and collectively breathed a sight of relief. They were safe, and Velkan wouldn't be a problem. If the fall didn't kill him, it would certainly stun him, and with the help of the cold water, it would be a while before he was dangerous again. So they were fine.

Meanwhile, we had our own problems.

"How are we going to get over there?" Mrs. Harker asked. The rain was beginning to fall harder now, but Kurt smiled.

"That is easy. Excuse me, madam."

He let go of one of my legs so he could pull Mrs. Harker to him, and then, holding both of us in his arms, jumped headfirst over the side of the castle.

The only time I ever jump off anything upside down is in wolf form, not human form, and this sent my equilibrium way out of wack. I opened my mouth to yell at the sensation of cold air flying past us, and the sight of the blue black waters as they rushed up to meet us.

_Bang! _

There was that feeling like I was being sucked down a drain again, and the next thing I knew, we were on solid ground on the other side of the river where the others were standing around us. Van Hesing nodded approval.

"So, you retuned the ladies safe and sound. Good work, Herr Wagner."

Kurt lowered his eyes shyly, and busied himself with setting me on the ground. I could see the relief in his golden eyes as he did so, though he tried not to show it. He took off his robe and before I could protest, wrapped it around me. I saw he was wearing his jacket and pants underneath it, but it was cold, and the rain was falling in buckets now.

"What happened to her?" Quatermain asked.

"Dracula attacked her from behind and bit her, the dirty bastard."

Everyone looked at Mrs. Harker in shock. No one had expected that kind of language to come from a lady, even one such as she. But she did not notice, because she was turning my head to show them the bites on my neck.

"She was the smallest, and therefore the easiest for him to prey upon."

"How cruel," said Anna. "That's just like him, though. Sneaking up on the smallest and most vulnerable while her back is turned and drinking her blood to sate his own hunger."

"Blood loss is the least of her worries," said Mrs. Harker.

"What do you mean?" asked Kurt, looking up from me.

"There are now two forces battling within her. She has werewolf venom already in her veins, but she has been bitten by a vampire, and the vampire's virus is now trying to gain control of her. If she is not strong enough to fight it off, she will die."

Kurt's eyes got big.

"I thought you only became infected if you drank a vampire's blood," said Van Helsing.

"If you are human, yes," replied Mrs. Harker. "But she is not human. She is a werewolf, and when a werewolf is bitten by a vampire, it is automatically infected, but the venom in their veins treats it like an invader and fights it off, whereas a human's body bonds with it and accepts it. Usually, the vampirism is stronger than the werewolf venom, and most werewolves who are bitten die within a few days."

"What about Dracula?"

It did not take any intense examination to detect the bitterness in Kurt's voice. Mrs. Harker laughed, softly and very lady-like for her, for she'd heard it too.

"Werewolf blood is poisonous to vampires, and many who drink it die as well. But Dracula is very old, and too strong for her blood to kill him. She might make him very sick for a few days, but I do not think he will die."

"Even my stake didn't kill him," said Van Helsing.

We all looked at him and echoed in one voice, "What?"

Before he had a chance to explain himself however, Mrs. Harker said briskly, "Let's get out of the rain. You can explain on the way."

Kurt prepared to pick me up again, but Skinner stopped him.

"Let me take her, Wagner. You look about ready to fall over."

Though he didn't look too happy to let me go, he nevertheless helped me get up onto Skinner's back. I had a little difficulty getting my arms around his neck because the rain had washed all the greasepaint from his face, but I managed to do it without stabbing him in the eyeballs and we were off, heading for the burned down remains of what looked like an old windmill. It wasn't much, but it would probably provide some shelter from the rain until it let up and we were able to get back to Anna's castle.

On the way over, Van Helsing told the others what had happened; how Dracula had swooped down on us, how he had bitten me, then his conversation with Mrs. Harker. When they all looked at her, she shook her head.

"That is a story for another time," she said, and Van Helsing continued. After he'd told the three of us to run, Dracula had pulled the stake from his heart as though it were nothing at all, and that was when Van Helsing decided it was time to get the hell out of there. Dracula had escaped death again, and now that his children were awake, he was free to begin his plans to control the world. Quatermain mentioned this, but Mrs. Harker only smiled.

"There is an easy way to deal with that. If Dracula is killed, then everything created by him will also die. Kill him, and you kill his children."

"But how do you kill him?" Anna burst out suddenly, making us all jump. "We've tried everything! We've shot him, stabbed him, clubbed him, sprayed him with holy water, staked him through the heart and still he lives! Don't you understand? No one knows how to kill Dracula!"

"Yes, thank you. We kind of figured that," said Van Helsing, and everyone chuckled except for Anna, who looked extremely sour.

We had reached the windmill. Skinner put me down next to a beam that was standing halfway upright so I was out of the rain, or most of it at least. Kurt knelt down and wrapped the robe tighter around me, then put his arms around me to warm me up. I appreciated his efforts; I was shivering from the cold, and I was beginning to get a cough. However, when one of his hands brushed the bare skin of my neck, he jerked it back and hissed.

"Ouch!"

The others turned to look at us.

"What is the matter?" asked Anna.

"She's burning up," Kurt whimpered, and stuck his fingers in his mouth.

"Too hot for you, Wagner?" said Skinner, and Mrs. Harker gave him a nasty glare as she bustled over and put her cool hand on my forehead. Her reaction wasn't quite as pronounced as Kurt's, but it was similar; she pulled it away almost immediately upon contact.

"She's getting a fever," she said softly. I felt Kurt leave my side, and was beginning to wonder where he went when he was back, his cupped hands full of rainwater. He held them under my chin, and Mrs. Harker and Skinner helped me sit up so I could lean over and drink. It was freezing, and bit at my tongue and the inside of my mouth, but I ignored it. I was thirsty; it was water.

"Mrs. Harker?" Kurt asked while I was drinking.

"Yes?"

"You said that everything created by Dracula would die with him."

"That is correct."

"And you said that you were once his bride. I assume therefore that it was he who made you into a vampire?"

"That is also true."

"Does that mean that you will die when he is destroyed?"

Her green eyes could not betray her surprise. I could tell that she had never thought of it before.

"I do not know, Herr Wagner. It was indeed he who bore me to darkness, and his blood runs in my veins. However, I was not his bride for very long, and I have not been with him for hundreds of years. I am no longer bound to him, and his hold on me no longer exists. Still, it is highly likely that I will die, but it is a sacrifice I am willing to make. Nothing would make my dying moments happier than to see his vile presence vanquished from this earth. Besides," she added with a smile. "I have lived too long already."

She busied herself by putting her hand to my head again, and remarked that I seemed a little cooler. After that, we were silent for a minute or so, listening to the rain and the hundreds of sounds it made as it fell on the burned wood, the ground, and ourselves. Though we had a little shelter, we were still soaked to the bone, and freezing cold. Someone sniffed, a sound so soft we barely heard it over the rain, and we saw that Princess Anna had tears in her eyes.

"You were right. I'm sorry," she said to Van Helsing. "He's not my brother anymore."

I was confused for a moment, then I remembered Velkan. Letting go of him would be hard, I could tell, though I would never understand what she was going through. I had lost my parents at a very young age, so I hadn't had much time to form a close relationship with them. I couldn't even remember their faces now. Anna, however, had probably grown up best friends with her brother, and now that he was no longer in her life, it had been turned upside down. I didn't understand, really, but I didn't blame her for crying.

Van Helsing had something else on his mind. He was rummaging around in a crate that was sitting nearby, and there were sounds of glass bottles clinking. When he emerged, there was a squarish bottle full of light, aqua green liquid in his hand. He held it up for all of us to see, and I heard Kurt say, "Absinthe. It is absinthe."

Skinner's interest was immediately peaked.

"Any more in there, Van Helsing?"

He dove back into the crate, and pulled out another bottle, which he tossed to Skinner. He offered some to Quatermain and Kurt, then pitched them bottles when they said yes. Kurt opened his, took a long swig, then looked at me.

"I do not know if you will like the taste, but it may help deaden the pain, and it will make you sleep."

He tilted the neck of the bottle towards my mouth, then pressed it to my lips so I could swallow some of the alcohol. It burned my tongue and throat, but the taste was not bad. I had a good few gulps before Kurt took it away, smiling.

"That is enough. You might get sick."  
He knew I had little experience with alcohol, or maybe it was because I was still so young. Eighteen is not the age to be consuming the stuff, or so the experts say. Maybe they're just a bunch of fat, old drunks who want it all for themselves, so they make it illegal for us kids to drink it.

Greedy bastards.

But whatever. I lay back and let my tongue, mouth and esophagus recuperate, while I listened in on Van Helsing and Anna's conversation, who were the only ones talking.

"So, do you have any family, Mr. Van Helsing?" Anna was saying. Her voice had taken on that playful quality I had detected when she offered him his drink back in her castle.

"Oh, I don't know," he sighed as he opened his bottle. "I hope to find out someday; it's what keeps me going."

She took the bottle from his hands and held it up, as if making a toast.

"Here's to what keeps you going," she said, but before the top reached her lips he stopped her.

"Absinthe's strong stuff."

She took a swallow anyway, looking at him with her eyes half open.

Now I really felt like I was going to throw up. The princess was flirting with the assassin, and she was taking no pains to be subtle about it.

"Don't let it touch your tongue," she said, handing the bottle back to Van Helsing. She started to say something else, but no one heard, because at that moment, a slight shift in her weight made the boards beneath us groan, and then the floor collapsed entirely. With a unified cry of surprise, we all fell down amongst an avalanche of wood, stone, and dirt. I hit something hard, a fresh wave of pain spread like fire through my body, and then the world went black.

**Oh no! What will happen to Gabriel? You wanna find out? You know what to do...plz**


	8. Chapter 7: Monster

**To Spaztic Arwen: this chap's for you!**

* * *

When I moved again, I could see daylight shining down on me. I was covered with dirt and debris, but I found that a few movements of my arms and legs cleared off most of it. I heard the rest of the League stirring around me, which was good, because it meant that no one had died. I saw Anna push a piece of wood bigger than her head off her chest, shake herself out, and hop down from the pile of rubble we had fallen with. She held one side of her head and moaned, then Van Helsing appeared out of nowhere and clapped a hand over her mouth. He shushed her first, then turned to us.

"Quiet! There's something down here."

Anna drew her sword, and I heard the click of Quatermain's pistol behind me.

Van Helsing observed a pile of fish bones lying nearby.

"And it's carnivorous."

He picked up a partially burned book sitting next to the bones. Looking harder at it, I was able to make out a cross and the words Holy Bible on it.

"Whatever it is," Van Helsing continued. "It appears to be human."

I heard a soft laugh behind me, and turned my head to see Kurt crouching on his feet and one hand, the other resting on his knee, smiling.

"Not everyone who reads God's holy Word is human," he said, and grinned so his sharp teeth flashed. I returned the smile, and he put his hand on my back.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like hell," I answered truthfully. The period when I had been unconscious had helped a little bit; my headache was now a dull throb instead of a stabbing fire, and my fever had gone down, but I was still too weak to move, and I felt groggy and sluggish. And I was hungry. Hungry for human blood, for human food, I didn't care. I just wanted something in my stomach before it started to gnaw on my brain.

"Can you stand?" Kurt asked, and I shook my head. I didn't even want to try, for fear that I would fall down and disturb whatever it was that Van Helsing said was down here with us.

And speaking of which…

"I'd say it's a size seventeen," said Van Helsing, studying something on the ground. Though I couldn't see, I guessed it was a footprint. He and Anna walked around a pool of stagnant water while he continued his musings.

"It's about three hundred and sixty pounds…eight or nine feet tall…look, it has a bad gimp in his right leg, and…" I could tell the change in his voice has he turned to face Anna. His eyes looked up at a point somewhere above her head, and his hand went to his hip. "…three copper teeth."

Anna looked at him curiously.

"How do you know it has copper teeth?"

"Because it's standing right behind you. Move!"

He pushed her out of the way, but before he could pull his gun out, the huge figure brought its arm around in an arc and knocked him backwards into the water. It then rounded on Anna, who stumbled backwards, gasping, "Oh my God! The Frankenstein Monster! So the legend is true!"

_"Monster?!" _it roared. "Who's the monster here?"

As it went lumbering clumsily after her, it stepped into the light and we all saw its face. There was no doubt in our minds who at least _appeared_ to be the monster.

Van Helsing's estimates of his height, weight and shoe size were all correct, and we saw that he did indeed have a limp in his right leg as he stumbled around the cave. He also had three copper teeth, the rest yellowed and broken, so crooked that they didn't look human at all.

But neither did the rest of it.

His skin was a pale, grayish purple, lumpy and mottled so much it could easily have been mistaken for a rock. Its huge hands had long, thick nails that were chipped, dirty and blackened with lack of care. But even though his face was twisted with rage, his eyes had a haunted look in them, a look I knew well. It was the same one I'd seen in Kurt's eyes, in Dr. Jekyll's, and in my own when I looked into a mirror.

There was something else I recognized too, the scent of fear. It was not attacking us out of anger or spite, though it was try to appear so, it was lashing out in fear. It was afraid of us.

But while it was unable to fool me, it was doing a good job of convincing everyone else. He grabbed Anna by the collar and hefted her clean off the ground. He held her in the air about a foot above his head, yelling in her face.

"I have done nothing wrong, but it's you and your kind who wish me dead!"

Meanwhile, Van Helsing struggled out of the water, addressed the situation, and acted. He charged the monster, pushed him into the wall of the cave, and made him drop Anna. While she scrambled away, he prepared to fight the creature, and found that, when he'd knocked its head into the wall, he'd somehow managed to split its face open. Literally, open. One side of its face was hanging off its head as thought it were on a hinge that wouldn't open all the way. We could see its brain, but instead of blood, there were green sparks flashing around inside its head.

With a howl of rage, it knocked Van Helsing back into the water. It placed its hands on its head, pushed its face back together, and took off after Anna again, who began to crawl away, whimpering in fear. He kept after her until he had backed her into a rock, and Quatermain and Skinner had actually stepped forward to her defense when she cried, "What do you want?"

The monster stopped. He stared hard at her, really looking at her for the first time, then answered her question.

"To exist."

We were all focused on the two of them, and none of us saw Van Helsing pull out a pipe and shoot three darts into the creature's back. It roared in pain, and fell forward. Anna moved quickly, and the creature landed where she had been lying moments before. There was a click as she unlocked the safety on her pistol. Van Helsing grabbed her arm.

"Wait."

"We must kill it!" she protested, but Van Helsing shook his head. The creature's voice made them turn around.

"If you value the lives, and the lives of your kind, you will kill me!"

"What?" several of us spoke together.

"If Dracula finds me," it wheezed. "I am the key to my father's machine: the key to life. Life, for Dracula's children."

"He already awakened them last night," said Van Helsing. The monster snorted.

"Those were from only one bride. That was only one single birthing, and they died like they did the last time he tried. Only with me, can he give them lasting life."

A noise turned our attention away from the monster. Mrs. Harker let out a moan, clutched both hands to her womb, and dropped to her knees. She doubled over, as though she had a bad stomachache, and Kurt left my side to kneel by hers.

"Mrs. Harker? What is the matter?"

Her voice was soft and shaking, as though she was recovering from a faint as she answered him.

"They were mine. The ones he awakened last night…they were my children. I didn't realize until later when I smelled their blood on my hands." She smiled weakly. "I suppose I should be glad they are dead, because now they can never be used to harm the human race, but still…"

"You did give birth to them," I said, not entirely sure of what I was saying. "They were a part of you."

"But they were also a part of Dracula," she said bitterly. "And I should feel no pity for their deaths." She stood, aided by Kurt's reassuring hand. "Thank you, Herr Wagner."

Van Helsing was confused.

"There are more of those things?" he asked the creature.

"Thousands," it replied. "Thousands more."

The serum in the darts took its toll, and it collapsed, unconscious. A very heavy silence descended on all of us as the dangers we faced dawned on us. On the one side, there was no threat of the little vampires that had been resurrected the night before. They were all dead, and the village below us was probably safe. And, as long as Dracula didn't find the creature, he would never be able to bring his children to life. However, if he did find it, and got a hold of it, not only us, but the entire world would suffer. All we had to do was make sure it was never found.

But Anna had another idea. She clicked off the safety of her pistol again, and pointed it at the creature. Again, Van Helsing stopped her, and again, she protested.

"You heard what it said!"

"My life…my _job, _is to vanquish evil," Van Helsing explained. "I can sense evil, and this thing, man, whatever it is, evil may have created it, left its mark on it, but it does not _rule_ it. So, therefore, I cannot kill it."

She nodded, but the look in her eyes told us that what he had just said meant nothing to her.

"But I can."

"Not while I'm here," he said, grabbing her arm as she lifted it again.

Personally, I was on her side. It was gruesome, yes, and somewhat cruel, I suppose, but the cold truth of it was that millions of lives depended on this one, and if we ended this one, we would save the others.

But what Van Helsing said next made me stop and reconsider.

"You family spent four hundred years trying to kill Dracula. Maybe this poor creature can help us find a way."

Now that I thought about it, he was right. It was Dracula we were after, not this thing. It was the vampire we had to destroy. Why should this monster suffer for the vampire's crimes? It had done nothing wrong, to our knowledge. Didn't it have as much right to live as everyone else here?

A shower of dirt fell on Kurt's head. We looked up, and Quatermain fired two shots with his gun, but they both missed the huge, hairy shape that quickly scrambled out of the hole and into the sunlight.

Anna and Van Helsing looked over at us.

"What was that?"

"Your brother tried to pay us a visit, Princess," said Mrs. Harker.

"Oh my God," said Anna. "He's seen us. Now they'll come for it and neither you nor I will be able to stop them!"

"If I can get it to Rome, we can protect it there," Van Helsing answered, referring to the secret organization both he and Karl worked for. "We'll need to get it out of Romania as soon as possible."

"What about Gabriel?" Kurt asked sharply. He had come back to sit by side. "She cannot make that journey."

"I'm fine," I growled, but Mrs. Harker snapped, "No! You are not. You are very ill, Ghost Wolf. You do not feel it now, because the infection has not yet set in. Right now, you are just recovering from the blood loss, but when the virus and the venom begin to battle for control of your body, you will feel it. If you are strong enough, you will fight it off."

"And if I'm not?"

"You will die."

I didn't like the sound of that. I was only eighteen years old. In five months, I would be nineteen. I was too young to die.

"Some of you will stay behind with her," said Van Helsing. "I'm sure Dr. Jekyll will be able to help."

"This is beyond his realm of medicine," said Mrs. Harker. "Still, it will be nice to have him around."

I caught something in her eyes as she said this, something that I had remembered seeing in Anna's eyes the night before. I thought about the way she and Jekyll acted around each other, and now that I thought about it, I'd swear that she liked the nervous young doctor. Whether or not he returned her affections I did not know. She was, after all, dead.

"I will stay with her as well," said Kurt, but Van Helsing waved his hand.

"Discuss it later. Right now, we need to get this creature out of here, and Wagner, I'm going to need your help."

**Hope I didn't disappoint you!**


	9. Chapter 8: A Battle to Save My Soul

**Gabriel's fate! Oh, and if you love Nemo, don't sue.**

**You know what I own, and what I don't. Need I say it again?**

The trip back was a little scary, but eventually we made it. The hardest part was moving the monster, but between Van Helsing, Quatermain, Skinner and even Mrs. Harker, they managed to get his huge, unconscious form from the ruined windmill to Anna's castle without very much trouble. We used Kurt's teleportation powers to get everyone out of the hole, except for Mrs. Harker, who put me on her back and climbed out herself. Being a vampire gave her unnatural strength, and she did this with ease. Then, while Kurt carried me, she helped carry the creature, who Van Helsing had decided was a "he," and would be named Frankenstein after the doctor who had created him, the man he had called Father. There was no one about in the village, maybe because it was still very early in the morning. We could see some of the havoc the little vampires had wreaked the night before: a few blood-drained corpses, and everything was covered in a thin layer of green slime: all that was left of Dracula's instruments of destruction.

When we got back to Anna's castle, we broke off into two groups. Anna, Quatermain and Skinner took Frankenstein to the stable to put him into a carriage so he could be easily transported to Rome, and Van Helsing, Mrs. Harker, Kurt and myself went into the castle to get Dr. Jekyll so he could help out with me, as well as inform the rest of the League of what had happened, the dangers we faced, and explain the next course of action.

We were met by a very distraught Karl, who kept stumbling over his words and babbling nonstop about something. I caught Dorian Gray's name, but nothing else. When he saw me, he stopped in the middle of whatever it was he had been saying.

"What happened to her?"

"She's very sick, Karl," said Van Helsing.

"She needs care immediately," said Mrs. Harker.

But it was Kurt who noticed the ashen look on Karl's face, and he asked, "What has happened?"

"You had better come with me," the little monk said, and led us down the hall, explaining as we went.

"I never saw it coming. I don't think anyone did. He did a good job of pulling the wool over all our eyes. No one ever suspected him."

"Who, Karl?"

"Dorian Gray. He's a traitor. He's been working for Dracula this whole time. That was why his brides attacked us when they did. They knew when we would be here, because Gray somehow got word to them."

Mrs. Harker sucked in her breath sharply. Van Helsing turned his attentions from her back to Karl as he asked firmly, "Karl, what happened?"

"I wasn't there," he said. "I was in the tower, finding out what I could, when Jekyll came and got me. He can explain it to you."

We turned into a room, and a very sorry sight met our eyes.

Nemo was lying on his back with his arms folded on his stomach. His eyes were closed and we might have mistaken him for just being asleep, but my nose was as keen as ever. There was no mistaking the death-scent in the air, and the blood on Jekyll's hands. He was sitting on a chair next to the bed Nemo was lying on, his head bowed and his bloody hands clasped between his knees. He opened his eyes and stood up when he heard us come in.

Van Helsing swept the scene with his eyes, then looked at Jekyll, who shook his head. For the final time, he asked the doctor, "What happened?"

Jekyll's voice was little more than a cracked whisper, but we caught every word.

"Gray was leaving the castle, probably to alert Dracula of your plans ahead of time. Nemo only asked him where he was going, and to reply, Gray pulled out a pistol and shot him. I was passing by when I saw it happen. I took the gun Princess Anna gave me and fired, but he was not hurt by the shot. In fact, I didn't see any blood on his clothes at all, but I didn't get a very good look at him. He shot at me, and missed, and I fired again as he was running away, but I was too late. He was already gone. I wondered if I should follow him, but Nemo was still alive, and I know where my duty lies. I am a doctor, after all. I called Karl, and we did all we could for him. He was very strong, and he lasted quite a while, long enough to make us think he would make it. But in the end, even the strongest cannot beat Death. Gray had shot him twice, through both lungs, and he drowned in his blood."

"Then the vampires attacked," said Karl.

"But not for long," Jekyll finished. "They weren't here for very long before they all just died."

"We can explain that later," Mrs. Harker broke in sharply. "She needs rest and care, immediately."

It was then that Jekyll noticed me. He rushed over to the washbasin and plunged his hands into the water.

"What happened?" he asked as he dried off and helped Kurt lay me down, right there on the floor.

Much to Mrs. Harker's annoyance. She turned up her nose and sniffed. I felt him press two fingers into my wrist, taking my pulse, and he looked at my eyes, making sure my pupils were dilating normally.

"She was bitten by Dracula," said Kurt. The doctor's eyes widened.

"Then she needs fluid," he said quickly, and he and Kurt scooped my up again. "And fast!"

"But it's much more serious than that," said Mrs. Harker behind us. I really hoped she wouldn't go into that she's-going-to-die business again. I didn't think I could stand hearing it again.

Kurt seemed to have read my mind.

"Here, Doctor," he said, taking me completely in his arms. "I will take her and lay her down. You talk with Mrs. Harker."

We left them behind us, their low voices fading quickly as we made our way down the hall. I smiled weakly at him.

"Thanks, Kurt."

He smiled back.

"My pleasure. I did not think you needed to hear your chances of survival one more time. I do not think I could, either."

His words warmed me a little. I had never had someone feel concern for me, and I found I rather liked the feeling. How fortunate I thought, that I should make a friend such as Kurt Wagner, even if in my last few weeks of life.

He carried me to my room and lay me down on the bed. He wrestled with the blankets until he got me under then, then I let my head fall back onto the pillow. I closed my eyes and began to feel myself slipping away, when I heard his voice whisper, "I may not ever get another chance to do this…"

His lips pressed into my temple, and I felt the feathery-soft brush of his eyelashes against my forehead. I would have questioned the action, but sleep was dragging me down rapidly, and I was too weak to resist. Blackness enveloped me, and I didn't wake until much later, to find Kurt, Mrs. Harker and Dr. Jekyll sitting around me, watching over me as I slept.

* * *

For the next few weeks, our plan of action took effect. Van Helsing, Karl, Quatermain, and Princess Anna took two carriages to transport Frankenstein to Rome, one to actually carry him, the other as a decoy to distract any one of Dracula's servants who may come after them. Hopefully, the power of the Church would protect him there, and they could decide our next move. They would wire us when they got there, and in the meantime, everyone else stayed behind, either to help me survive, or to bury me if I didn't.

As the days passed, it began to look like the latter. I sank into a deep, delusional fever, and I burned like fire, and froze like ice. I had horrible, frightening hallucinations and nightmares that woke me screaming and thrashing my arms and legs. Except for these times, I could not get my limbs to move; I was simply too weak to lift them. My head ached, and I had little if any appetite for food. Then I began to feel like someone was stabbing me repeatedly with a huge stake. When I told her about this, Mrs. Harker's face became very grave.

"Then the virus has reached your heart. This is the moment that decides of you live or die. From here, it will either get better, or it will get worse."

I was not entirely comforted by that thought. I was getting really sick of this live-or-die nonsense, and what I wanted was a real answer: would I live or would I die? A good, solid answer was what I needed right now, none of this wishy-washy, maybe-maybe not stuff.

However, my illness was not one that was clearly defined, because there were so few that suffered it. After all, there were very few werewolves in the world, at least to my knowledge, and even fewer who got bitten by vampires. As I understood it, vampires and werewolves did not get along very well. They interfered with each other's feeding grounds, and created competition for each other. Most of the time, they avoided each other, so it was very rare that you came across a werewolf that had been bitten by a vampire, and even rarer to find one that had survived. I figured that if I lived through this, I would be one very special werewolf.

At first, I didn't think I would. After the few days in which my heart felt like it was being butchered over and over again, any sort of life fell out of me. My limbs no longer thrashed, my headache vanished, and my fever went down. I couldn't eat; I didn't even feel hungry. Come to think of it, I didn't feel anything. I no longer had nightmares or hallucinations, but I was barely conscious for most of the time. All of them tried to get me to eat, mostly broth and water, because I wasn't strong enough to eat solid food, but I would not. Not only could I not swallow, I didn't want to eat, no matter how much Mrs. Harker yelled at me.

"If you do not eat, you will die!"

By now, I was pretty sure I was going to die anyway, so it didn't matter whether I ate or not.

Then they came up with something else, something that really turned the tables on my illness, and probably saved my life.

Mrs. Harker and Dr. Jekyll were standing at the foot of my bed, talking in low voices. They thought I was asleep, but I was having one of my better days and could hear every word they said.

"Blood?" Jekyll was saying. There was an uncomfortable edge in his voice as he spoke.

"It's the only thing we haven't tried," said Mrs. Harker. "And it is one thing werewolves definitely need to survive. It can only help to at least give it a try. Human blood is probably better."

There was a pause, but I couldn't see what was happening because my eyes were closed. I guessed that Jekyll was looking at her with an expression of horror on his face, torn between saving the life of the one who had saved his, and preserving the life of someone else. Finally he said, "How are we going to get it?"

Mrs. Harker had a playful note in her voice as she said, "Leave that to me."

* * *

I'll never know how Mrs. Harker got ahold of the blood, or what she did to get it. Some things were better off not knowing, and when my nose caught the first whiff of that rich, salty-sweet scent, I seemed to feel better instantly. She was carrying a steaming bowl in her hands when she entered the room, and I guessed she had warmed it up a little on the fire before bringing it up. A sudden surge of power than came out of nowhere made me sit up and all but snatch the bowl out of her hands. Suddenly, I was ravenous, and nothing else mattered but getting my hands on that bowl.

Mrs. Harker smiled and sat down on the bed next to me. I grabbed for the bowl, but she knocked my hands away. I let out a noise like a whimper and reached for the bowl again. She slapped my hands down again and tilted the bowl to my lips, saying in a soft voice like a mother would to her sick child, "Slowly, Ghost Wolf. Slowly."

Though it was annoying, she was probably right, so I drank it down in long, slow gulps, stopping to breathe when she took the bowl away, then starting up again when she put it back. In a minute or two, I'd drunk the whole thing down. When she asked if I wanted more, I nodded my head vigorously, and she left the room. I lay back on my pillows, feeling somewhat revived as a warm, pleasant feeling radiated from my stomach through the rest of my body. I lay in complete silence, listening to my heartbeat strengthen. The room gradually stopped spinning, and the objects within stopped weaving in and out of focus. When the door clicked softly open again, it was Kurt who entered with the bowl.

"Mrs. Harker said you were hungry enough for a second helping," he said as he pushed the door closed behind him. He looked at me for a minute, then he said, "You look better. Your eyes are brighter."

"Are they?" I asked as he sat down next to me, much in the same way Mrs. Harker had been. He put his arm around my back, making sure I had a decent support before he brought the bowl to my lips. He nodded as I began to drink. It was hot, much warmer than a human's blood would have normally been, but it was rich and thick, and had never tasted so wonderful.

To humans, their own blood (or someone else's,) tastes sort of metallic and salty, but to a werewolf or a vampire, it's a huge array of flavors: sweet, strong, tangy, spicy, or sometimes thin and bitter, depending on the person's diet and the mood they were in before they died. I don't think humans find the taste of their own blood very appealing, which if fine by those who feed upon it, because that means more for us.

I'll never know who it was that gave up their life to save mine, but to this day, I get down on my knees and thank them, whoever they were.

From that point on, my strength recovered. I began to eat again, quickly moving from blood to soup to solid food. I took a few shaky steps on Kurt's so elbow so I wouldn't fall over, then more and more alone until I could walk just as easily as I had before. In about a week, maybe a little more, I had fully recovered my health.

But not completely. The place where Dracula bit me healed into an ugly scar, and sometimes at night, I would feel his fangs sink into my flesh, feel that red-hot fire course through my veins, and wake up screaming.

These nightmares would plague me for the rest of my life.

In the month or so of my illness, we had not heard from Van Helsing or the rest of the crew. It was supposed to take about two weeks for them to get to Rome, but two weeks came and went, and we heard nothing. Four weeks came, and still no word. By week five, we began to worry. Had something happened to them? Had they had an accident, or worse, had Dracula and his servants caught up with them?

Mrs. Harker told us to rest our fears. There was nothing we could do about it but sit and wait.

I suppose, in all this fuss, you're wondering whatever happened to our brave Captain Nemo.

I was informed that the town undertaker, the really creepy one with the scraggly hair and the filthy teeth who delighted in any mention of death had been killed by Velkan the werewolf. Although this was unfortunate, I couldn't help feeling grateful to my hideously ugly wolf cousin. A funeral service was held for both him and Nemo, but of course I hadn't been able to attend because of my sickness. He would be sorely missed, they had said, because of his heroic acts protecting the children when the vampires attacked.

When I thought about it, I was sure he would rather have been buried at sea, because that was where his heart belonged. But he was dead and buried in Romanian soil whether he liked it or not, and by the time I came to that conclusion, it was too late to change it anyway.

I spent the last few days of my recovery outside, on a balcony at the front of the palace, and monster equivalent to the front porch of a country home. Often when I sat out there, wrapped up in a blanket, Kurt would sit out with me, and we would talk. Mostly we talked about our lives before and after we escaped our captivity, but sometimes we talked about what we would do after this, if we got out of it alive. I told him that I didn't know what I was going to do. I'd never really had a purpose for myself, except to take revenge on pathetic human beings, but lately, since I had met Kurt and lain awake for several hours with nothing to do but think, I'd had a serious change of heart. I'd done a severe examination of my personality, my life, the things I'd done, and the things I had witnessed over the past few months since I had begun my journey to Transylvania.

Kurt's gentle demeanor and strict religious ways had made me feel incredibly guilty about the things I had done, and if there was any chance I could turn my life around, then I was going take it. I had decided that, if I got out of this alive, I would never use my gift to take an innocent life again. I didn't know how I would get the blood I needed to survive, but I would never kill or bite a human being again. I wanted to start a new life once this was over, but I was still unsure as to how I would do that. There was nowhere I could go. I had no family, no friends I could stay with, no education, and no special skills I could apply to a job. Basically, I had nothing going for me. But I was determined. I had examined my life thoroughly, and I knew now that the way I had been living, while it brought me pleasure, had never made me truly happy, and it was time for a change.

It was amazing how much one person, a man I barely knew, could have such an effect on me. Kurt had influenced me to turn my life completely around. I wanted his world and his lifestyle so much, but the idea that I may not be able to reach it haunted me greatly. I was, after all, a monster. I had killed hundreds, maybe thousands of people for my own purposes, and because of that I might be forever damned. It was a thought that terrified me to the core; that I was beyond all help, beyond all forgiveness.

My recovery had also given me a chance to update my diary, and I recorded everything that had happened to me, as well as my thoughts, impressions, and fears. Finally, I asked Kurt one afternoon when we were sitting out on the balcony. He had been explaining the origins, rules and customs of the Roman Catholics.

"What do you think, Kurt?" I asked.

"About what?"

"About me? You think there's still a chance I could be forgiven: cruel, slaughtering murderess that I am?"

"God will always give forgiveness to those who truly seek it."  
"But it is too late for someone like me?"

"It is never too late," he said. His voice had dropped to a low whisper, and there was a look in his eyes that was so familiar, but I couldn't identify it. He leaned over and took my hand in his. "Would you like to accept Him into your heart right now? He is always listening, and would be overjoyed to have you in His arms."

"You can do that? Right now?"

"You can do it anywhere. You do not even need me. I can leave you alone for a moment if you like."

"No, stay with me," I said quickly, giving the hand that held mine an extra squeeze, surprised how the words had come out. I hadn't meant to sound pleading, but if Kurt noticed, he didn't say anything. Instead, he reached out with his other hand. Without words, I put mine into it. He closed his eyes, and as he began to speak, I followed suit.  
"Dear Lord and Father, accept this young woman's heart and soul into your heavenly kingdom. Guide her way and help her make the right decisions. Show her your plan for her, Lord, and help us all in the days ahead. Amen."

"Amen," I repeated, then opened my eyes and raised my head. Kurt had not let go of my hands, and his yellow eyes remain locked with my own for a long minute. I don't know why he kept staring at me, but I could not tear my eyes away. Finally, I realized my eyes were hurting, so I blinked. That must have broken the spell, because then he smiled and squeezed my hands. But there was a time when neither one of us could think of anything to say. Kurt broke the silence, as he released my hands and rose to his feet.

"Wait here."

He disappeared inside for a few minutes, which I took to bask in the silence and the sense of peace that had stolen over me. In all my eighteen years of life, I had never felt something like this. It penetrated me to the heart, something that had never happened to me before. It made me wish it would last forever, though I knew the dangers of the outside world lay just a few steps away.

Kurt returned and he had something clutched in his hands. When he dropped it into my own, I saw it was a rosary, with dark red glass beads. I rolled them over in my palms, enjoying their cool smoothness, and then I noticed Kurt had one in his hands, this one a pretty grass green.

"I will teach you how to say your rosary," he said, sitting back down in the chair he had been previously occupying. "Take the bead in your hands, like this." He showed me, and I copied him. He began to say something that I recognized as the Lord's Prayer, though I hadn't heard it in all of five years, since I had been in the orphanage. The words, though they meant little to me, were nevertheless soothing when spoken in Kurt's low voice, thick with its German brogue. He had almost finished when a shout interrupted us.

"Hey, Wagner! Ghost Wolf! Quickly, there's no time to lose!"

Both of our heads jerked up at the sound of the voice, for it was familiar. We looked down over the balcony and beheld Princess Anna, Van Helsing, Karl and Quatermain running towards the castle. Frankenstein was not among them.

"Hold on; we're coming!" I yelled back down at them, and Kurt and I leapt quickly from our chairs and raced inside. We fled down the main stairs shouting, "They're back! They're back!" Mrs. Harker, Skinner, and Dr. Jekyll heard the rukus and were right behind us as we pulled open the huge front doors and let in the bruised, bedraggled bunch that all but collapsed on top of us. There were bags under their eyes, their clothes were ripped and they were scratched and bleeding in several places. They were wet from the rain we'd just had, and they were dirty and muddy and exhausted. Kurt managed to grab Van Helsing's arm before he fell, and continued to support him as he made his way inside because he was limping badly on one leg.

"What happened?" Mrs. Harker asked as we led them into the sitting hall where we'd held our meeting the night we set out to hunt Velkan and found Dracula instead. Skinner poured them all a glass of scotch, and we set them down in chairs. No one said anything as they drank their scotch, then Quatermain spoke after looking me up and down.

"So you're still alive, are you?"

The greeting was cold, but I didn't expect much from the grizzled old hunter. I would say I didn't think he liked me very much, but he didn't really like anyone very much.

"I'm standing, aren't I?" I replied, and we all fell silent again. Finally, Dr. Jekyll voiced the question that had been on our minds from the moment they had come through the door.

"Where's Frankenstein?"

Van Helsing put down his empty scotch glass and answered without a moment's hesitation.

"We lost him. Dracula and his brides got him."

"But we killed one of them. She fell for our booby trap," said Anna with a rather nasty smile.

In the decoy carriage, they had implanted a bomb that, when set off, would send a barrage of silver stakes into the air. One of Dracula's brides must have been impaled when the bomb went off. Pure genius, if you ask me.

"And I lost Velkan," she added heavily. "Van Helsing killed him."

None of us said anything, so we had a moment of silence for the fallen prince. Though none of us had actually met him, we all felt the emptiness and sorrow that Anna was feeling, because it meant something else, too. With her brother's demise and her father's assumed death, it meant that she was the only Valerios living. Our urgency to kill Dracula had just doubled.

"And now that he has Frankenstein, we must kill Dracula before he brings his children to life," Dr. Jekyll said as he motioned for Van Helsing to put his leg up so he could take a look at it. Van Helsing obeyed, removing his knee-high boot to reveal an ugly gash along his shin.

"How did that happen?" Jekyll asked, glaring at the wound.

"I went through a window. Long story," grumbled Van Helsing, and Jekyll just began to clean the wound, asking no more questions.

"Even if he did bring them to life, Doctor," said Mrs. Harker, who was tending to a wound in Anna's shoulder. "The easiest way to deal with them is to deal with Dracula. There is not an enormous rush."

She pulled Anna's blouse down off her shoulder so she could better look at the cut. Anna flinched and looked alarmingly in the vampiress' direction. Mrs. Harker scoffed shortly.

"Don't worry, Princess. _I_ don't want your entire family in purgatory forever, either."

"But there is an urgency," Kurt spoke up suddenly. "If Dracula awakens his children, they will kill thousands of innocents before they are destroyed."

No one said anything. We had forgotten the little rats needed blood too.

"So what do we do?" I asked. Our situation was not hopeless, but it was not good, either.

"I'll tell you what we'll do first," said Mrs. Harker firmly. "You four," she gestured to Van Helsing, Princess Anna, Karl, and Quatermain. "You're going to cleaned up and rest for a few hours. We'll continue from there. I'll need everyone to help Dr. Jekyll and myself dress their wounds."

Kurt and I nodded, happy to finally have something to do, but Skinner backed out of the room, even under Mrs. Harker's harrowing glare.

"Sorry," he said, holding his gloved hands up and grinning widely. "I don't do well with blood and doctor's stuff. I'll, uh…go have a drink."

He ran off. Mrs. Harker yelled after him, but he was already gone. She groaned in disgust.

"And he'll probably take his coat off and remove his greasepaint just so we can't see him."

The rest of us laughed, much to her annoyance.

"That sounds like Skinner," said Jekyll with a smile. Mrs. Harker's face softened at his voice, and she smiled back. He noticed, and his ears turned pink. Both Kurt and I saw this, and traded knowing glances. Our suspicions were right: the vampiress had a certain fondness for the timid physician, and from what we could see, he liked her back. Ah, young love.

Well, sort of.

Maybe on Jekyll's part.

It was all we could do to keep from laughing as we went off to take care of Karl and Quatermain.

**Sorry to disappoint anyone, but it seemed logical to me that they split up, seeing as how they have two urgent problems they need to deal with at once, and no time to deal with them separately. I agree, the Masquerade Ball would have been awesome, but if I were to write all that out, we'd be here all night. So again, sorry for disappointed hopes and failed dreams, but it's still my fic, so if you don't like it, either deal, or stop reading.**

**Also, let me point out now before I get flamed or wrongly accused, that though I was raised Christian, I haven't had any religion to speak of since I was fourteen. We so often read stories of bad boys gone good, so I don't see why I can't write a story about a bad girl turned good. Christianity and Catholisism are not things I agree with, so no one get the idea that I'm secretly trying to convert people. It's just part of the story.**

**Thank you,**

**redheadvampiress**


	10. Chapter 9: The Hunt for Dracula

**Yet another reviewer! Yay! Elizabeth von Swheitzer, thank you immensely for taking time out of your hectic schedule to review my humble work. I think this is past the point where you originally read, so yeah...have fun!  
**

A few hours later, we were all clean, fed and rested, and the four adventurers had their wounds dressed and were on their way to recovery.

We also had three hours to sunset.

We packed our weapons and raced to Castle Frankenstein. When we got there, all the laboratory equipment was gone, and there was no trace of either Dracula or his subjects. The League stood in the middle of the empty room, bitterly disappointed and on the verge of panic. Where would they have gone?

Anna answered my question as though she had read my mind.

"They must have taken all the equipment to Dracula's lair!"

"Wherever that is," said Van Helsing, echoing the words we all were thinking.

"There's still time," said Karl. "Dracula can't bring his children to life until the sun sets."

"The sun sets in two hours!" Anna yelled at him. "And we've been looking for him for more than four hundred years!"

"Well, I wasn't around for those four hundred years, now was I?" the little monk retorted.

We looked at each other, then turned back to Karl.

"What do you know, Karl?"

In order to find out exactly what Karl had learned, we had to go all the way back to Anna's castle. Up in the tower library, we found our answers.

"Dracula was actually the son of your ancestor, Valerious the Elder," Karl began.

"Everybody knows that," said Anna. "What else?"

I hadn't known that, but I did now, so I didn't say anything. Karl looked a little hurt, but he continued on with his new-found knowledge.

"Well, according to this rubbing, it all started when Dracula was murdered in 1462."

He rolled up a piece of paper up against a stained glass window. The effect was a double diamond shape, one of an angel and below it, a knight. It didn't make any sense to me, but Karl moved on, and we had to move on with him.

"Does it say who murdered him?" asked Van Helsing.

"No," replied the little monk. "And when Dracula died, he made a covenant with the Devil."

He held up an illustration that, when folded, showed a man on his knees, touching fingers with a creature with bat-like wings and horns: the artist's interpretation of the Devil. We all crowded around it curiously.

"Then he was given a new life," said Van Helsing.

"But the only way he could sustain that life was by drinking the blood of others," Princess Anna put in.

"Excuse me," Karl interrupted. "Are you going to let me tell the story?"

"Sorry," they apologized in one voice.

"Now your ancestor," he continued, pointing at Anna. "Having sired this evil creature, went to Rome to seek forgiveness." He held up a painting of a man on his knees in what I guessed was a church. "That's when the bargain was made." He put down the painting, crossed the room and unrolled a very long piece of parchment. "He was to kill Dracula in return for eternal salvation of his entire family all the way down the line, to you."

The roll of parchment was a family tree. Anna took it from him and looked at it.

"But he couldn't do it. As evil as Dracula was, my ancestor couldn't kill his own son."

"So he banished him to an icy fortress, sending him through a door from which there was no return."

"Mm, wonder how that was accomplished," said Skinner with mock thoughtfulness. Some of the League members laughed, but I was confused.

"Wait. If it was a door through which there was no return, how does he keep coming back here? Surely Castle Frankenstein is not his home."

"The Devil gave him wings," said Karl. He still hadn't answered my question, but before I could open my mouth to tell him so, Van Helsing said, "So where is this door?"

"I don't know," was the response. We all looked at him. He had figured out this much; how could he not know where the door was? Though we must have been intimidating, he kept his composure, and said, "But when your ancestor couldn't kill his own son, he left clues." He pushed on a torch holder, and the wood paneling it was on turned around to reveal a painting. "So that future generations might do it for him."

The painting was of two knights with their swords raised in the air, ready to attack each other. One was green, and the other was red. I turned to Karl.

"I don't get it."

"Watch this," he said, and began to read the Latin inscription around the painting. When he was finished, the knights began to move, clashing swords. How the picture moved, I had no idea. I supposed it was just magic, and as I watched, the knights burst out of their armor, one becoming a huge, bat-like creature, the other a snow-white wolf. They attacked each other, and we all jumped back in surprise. Then the painting stopped, returning to its original state. We all stared in spellbound silence.

"I still don't get it," I said.

"I don't think any of us do," Karl answered me. "I think it might become clear once we find the door."

"The door," Van Helsing mused. "The door…of course!" he yelled suddenly, triumphantly, and took off out of the room. The rest of us looked at each other.

"What's got into him?" said Skinner.

"No idea," said Quatermain, and we took off after him.

Van Helsing lead us down to the armory, explaining as he went.

"You said your father would spend hours staring at this painting," he said to Anna. "I think you were right, quite literally. I think _this_ is the door. He just didn't know how to open it."

We stopped in front of the map of Transylvania. It was the painting Princess Anna had pointed out when we first arrived. I admit, I had completely forgotten about it. We all stood in front of it, looking for some clue as to how the door opened. Karl was the first to notice.

"Look, there's a Latin inscription here. Maybe it works like the painting in the tower."

He looked at the rest of us.

"Well, you're the only one who can read Latin," I said. "Go on."

He nodded, and moved a chair so he could read.

"I can't finish the inscription," he stated. "There's a piece missing." He pointed and we saw. The bottom corner had been torn off, the words with it.

Van Helsing gave a small start, and rummaged through a few coat pockets before he found what he was looking for: a small silver container. He opened it, and a piece of tapestry came out. There were words on it, and an insignia of a snake with wings.

"Your father didn't have this!" he crowed, showing Anna.

"Where did you get that?" she asked. The rest of us were just as confused, but he ignored her and handed it to Karl.

""Finish it!" he urged.

Karl began to read, his low voice forming the exotic words giving me goosebumps. He finished, and Van Helsing translated the last sentence.

"In the name of God, open this door."

The tapestry began to fade, starting first with the rivers and mountains. Silver streams began to stretch across it like spider webs, growing larger until the last of the map had vanished, revealing…

"A mirror," Karl mused. Our reflections stared back at us with identical puzzled looks on their faces.

"Dracula has no reflection in the mirror," said Anna.

"Mrs. Harker does," I said, pointing to it. We all knew the belief that a vampire has no reflection in a mirror.

"But why?" said Van Helsing. The disappointment on his face and in his voice was clear. To have come so far, only to be beaten by our own faces. With each passing moment, Dracula came closer and closer to his goal. We could not give up. If we did, Dracula would win.

"Maybe the door to Dracula is not a mirror at all," said Kurt.

"What are you saying; that it's somewhere else?" Van Helsing yelled in frustration.

"Hey!" I snarled, rounding on the assassin in defense of my friend. "It was your bright idea that the door was here!"

"Gabriel, please," said Kurt softly, though his eyes held something like resentment toward Van Helsing. He grabbed my arms at the elbows as my hands clenched into fists.

"That was only a suggestion!" he yelled back. "How was I supposed to know it would turn into a mirror?"

"It obviously means something, if it changes!" Kurt snapped.

"Shut up!" Quatermain shouted, and Van Helsing, Kurt and I stopped at once. "Yelling isn't going to get us anywhere, so just stop it. Right now, we need to think, and work together. Jekyll, what are you doing?"

The doctor had pressed his hand against the surface of the mirror, but instead of stopping there, it went right through the glass.

"It's cold," he said. He tried to pull his hand back through, but it wouldn't budge.

"The door through which there is no return," said Mrs. Harker. Jekyll turned to look at her, a soft glow in his blue eyes.

"See you on the other side," he said, more to her than to the rest of us, and stepped through. In a few seconds, he was gone. We all looked at each other.

"So who's next?" said Skinner, spreading his arms.

"You are," said Quatermain. "Move!"

He grabbed the invisible man by the sleeve of his trench coat and shoved him through the mirror, following close behind. Kurt stepped forward, and I moved to follow him. But he didn't go through yet, and turned around.

"Mrs. Harker," he said, holding out his hand to help her through. She took it, and he sent her on her way. Then I felt his hand slide into mine, and I jumped. A strange, warm feeling began to fill my chest, and my heartbeat skipped. He smiled at me, and I went weak in the knees, not really sure why. Shaking my head, I regained my composure, and together, we passed through.

It didn't take long, and soon a frigid wind was whipping our faces. I opened my eyes and nearly jumped out of my skin at the first thing I beheld: at least five skeletons impaled on spears sticking up out of the ground. I did jump backwards, straight into Kurt's arms, and he whispered something harsh in German as the grip on my hand tightened.

"They didn't call him Vlad the Impaler for no reason," said Mrs. Harker.

I looked around, and saw more skeletons on spears. All of them were human.

A noise behind us signaled the arrival of Van Helsing and Princess Anna, who stood in stunned silence for a moment, then breathed, "Castle Dracula," as we all let our eyes run over the sight.

If I'd thought that Castle Frankenstein was impressive, it was nothing compared to this. It was vast, enormous, a massive structure cut entirely of stone. Twisting my head around, I noticed we were up on a high mountain peak, and wondered, with an unpleasant, jittery feeling, if Castle Dracula wasn't part of the mountain itself.

We all turned to look at the door behind us. There was only one League member left, but there were no signs of movement.

"Is Karl coming?" asked Jekyll. Van Helsing shrugged.

"Probably stayed behind to hold the fort. It's not like him to want to get caught up in a fight."

We nodded, and Quatermain motioned for us to gather around. I was sure we were in for another pep talk, but he only said four words.

"Be careful. Let's go."

He started walking, drawing a pistol from his hip. We followed slowly, as though we were walking to the gallows. Indeed, I knew that some of us were probably going to our deaths tonight. Some of us would go into that castle and never come out again. Judging by the ashen gray faces of my companions, I guessed that I was not the only one who thought so.

After a few minutes, we heard panicked footsteps behind us, and a familiar voice calling, "Wait for me!"

Karl had decided to join us after all.

Because we were going slow and he was going fast, he caught up with us in no time. Once he did, he inquired, "Do we have a plan? It doesn't have to be Wellington at Waterloo, but some sort of plan would be nice."

I had no idea what Wellington or Waterloo was, but I also didn't think we had a plan either. We had certainly not discussed one before going through the door. Fortunately, Van Helsing and Anna had it all laid out.

"We're to go in there and stop Dracula," said Van Helsing.

"And kill anything that gets in our way," finished the princess.

**So, a bit short, but very important chapter. As you may have noticed, I've changed some things around, but there's one very big change that I've put in there. If anyone can guess what it is, I'll give her cookies. Elizabeth von Shweitzer, you can't say, because you already know.**


	11. Chapter 10: A Cure, or Death!

**Spaztic Arwen gets cookies! Congratulations! And to ladyfoxdemon, thanks so much for putting me on your favorites. I didn't even know you were reading my story. Leave me a review; I'd love to hear from you!  
**

**Disclaimer: If it's not Gabriel, it's not mine!  
**

We had reached the huge wooden doors, doors I knew we would never have a chance of opening. How then, did we get in? I figured we would need to go through one of the windows, but doing so was going to be difficult. Then, looking up, I saw it: an easy way into the castle. Above the doors, there was a glassless window, and below that, two pillars on either side of the doors with notches in them that, if used properly, would make perfectly adequate stairs. I opened my mouth to inform the others of my plan, but Karl spoke first.

"Well, you let me know how that goes."

He turned, probably to run away, but I grabbed him by the hood of his robes. He had come through with us; there was no way he was backing out now. And, rather than tell them what I had in mind, I decided to just show them. I was getting sick and tired of the freezing winter winds anyway. I took a running jump, and landed on the first ledge. I jumped again, again, and again, and made it to the window. From there, I charted my course, and jumped again, this time landing on the stone floor below us.

There was a whoosh behind us, and Mrs. Harker hit the floor, with Jekyll on one arm and Skinner on the other. There was a bang, and Kurt appeared with the rest of the League in a cloud of blue smoke.

It was Karl who spoke first. Looking at me, he said, "Well, as grateful as I am to be out of the cold, could you warn me next time before you do something like that?"

I glared at him, but his friendly smile softened my expression.

"Sure," I said.

Cautiously, we began moving forward through the vast entrance hall. I glanced up at the high walls and ceiling, and what I saw made me weak in the knees again.

The room in Castle Frankenstein that housed Dracula's offspring had been large, but it was miniscule compared to this. The entire hall was covered with the sacs from about halfway up the walls, and all across the ceiling.

I let out a whimper, and my knees actually did give out. Luckily, Kurt was behind me and caught me before I fell. He looked up at what I'd seen, and his yellow eyes opened wide. He bit his lips and breathed, _"Mein Gott."_

The others stared hard at us, then looked up as well. Most of them had seen the sacs before, but for Karl and Jekyll, it was something entirely new. Karl though, was pretty quick on the uptake.

"Are all of those…?"

"Yes," said Van Helsing and Anna together.

"And inside them are…?"

"Yes!" echoed everyone else.

"What?" Jekyll asked, a quizzical look on his face. Mrs. Harker whispered in his ear. His large blue eyes grew even larger, and what little color was there was there drained out of his face.

"Oh my God. Humanity doesn't stand a chance."

"Unless we kill Dracula," I said grimly.

"But how?" asked Princess Anna.

"There must be a way," said Kurt. "Nothing can go on forever." To me, he said, "Can you stand?"

I collected my feet under me, and stood up.

"Yep."

Just then, a voice made us turn around.

"Igor do this, Igor do that!"

A man with a hunched back and one shoulder higher than the other was slouching past us, too bent on his work to see us. His head was down and he was carrying huge coils of wire in his arms. I guessed he was a servant of Dracula's.

Then, without a warning, his head shot up, and we all jumped. He barely looked human. His head was covered in limp, yellow hair, and his eyes were all but colorless. His skin was mottled white and gray and thin lips stretched over a mouthful of crooked, rotted and broken teeth. He was positively revolting.

He was staring at us with a mixture of surprise and horror on his face.

"How did you find…is it possible?"

He threw the coils of wire to the ground and prepared to run back in the direction that he had come. But his awkward gait was no match for a werewolf's strength and speed, even in human form. In a few bounds, I had caught up with him, not wanting to risk Dracula finding out about us. I grabbed him by the collar of his filthy shirt and slammed him into the stone, pinning him to the wall. He was begging for his life even before both me and my stomach started growling.

"Please! Please don't kill me!"

"Why not?" I snarled. "I haven't had human blood in days, and I'm _hungry!" _

"Well…I…" he stuttered, and then I realized that he had nothing to support his conviction.

I would have laughed, and then probably killed him too, but a familiar roar distracted me. I ran towards the sound, which was coming from an opening in the wall next to us. I poked my head through, and saw Frankenstein, trapped in a block of what might have been ice. A horrible shriek came from somewhere above us, and rang through the castle. The League looked around to see what the noise might have been, and Igor, now trapped by Quatermain's restraining arm, smiled.

"My master has awakened."

There was a loud clank, and Frankenstein's block of ice began to move slowly up the shaft he was suspended in. I thought, _I have to save him._ I studied the stone bars that separated me from the monster, but they were too close together. Small as I was, I knew I would never be able to get between them. I hung my head, knowing that there was no way I could prevent Dracula from getting his hands of his prize.

"There is a cure."

My head shot up. Frankenstein was looking at me.

"What?" I said.

"Dracula has a cure to remove the Curse of the Werewolf!" the monster repeated.

To say I was shocked would be a huge understatement.

"How did you…?" I began, but of course, my yellow eyes, sharp teeth and white hair were probably dead giveaways to experienced eyes. Really though, it didn't matter what he knew or how he knew it. What mattered was the cure.

"Go," said Frankenstein. "Find the cure. Save yourself!"

And the chains carried him and his block of ice up the shaft and out of our sight. Kurt put his hand on my shoulder, standing so close I could feel the heat of his body on my skin.

"Gabriel," he whispered in my ear. I knew what he was thinking.

Jekyll retreated a few steps. When none of us followed, he stopped.

"Well, come on! You heard him; let's find it!"

"Wait," said Van Helsing. "Why does Dracula need a cure?"

"I don't care!" said Jekyll.

"I do," I said.

Van Helsing turned to Igor and grabbed him by the throat.

"Why does he need one?" he yelled in his face.

But Igor didn't need to reply, because Karl did.

"Because…because the only thing that can kill him is a werewolf! The painting in the tower; that's what it meant!"

I thought back only a short hour ago, even though it seemed so much longer, and remembered the knights, and how they fought each other. One of them had turned into a gigantic bat: Dracula, and the other had become a snow white wolf.

Me.

All of a sudden, it all fell in place. This was my destiny. This was why I had survived that bite all those years ago when I should have died; this was why I had lived on the street becoming a tough and a seasoned fighter; this was why the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen had been sent to find me. This was why I was who I was.

It seems that God had a plan for me after all. He hadn't abandoned me at all, simply left me alone for a while to help me unknowingly train for the purpose he had for me. It seems there was a way I could use my curse for good. Some inspired artist hundreds of years ago had known this, or seen it in a vision and had made that wolf white when he painted it, knowing that someday I would find it and realize why I had been put on this earth.

I blinked, and found the rest of the League was staring at me. The silence was broken, however, by Anna's skeptical voice.

"But Dracula has been using werewolves to do his bidding for centuries!"

"Yes," Karl agreed. "But if one ever had the will to turn on him, he'd need a cure to remove the curse and make it human again before it bit him."

He looked at the rest of us.

"We need a plan. Gabriel, you'll have to kill Dracula. You're the only one who can. The future of mankind rests on you now."

"Thanks," I said. "Nice to know I'm suddenly so important."

"Van Helsing, Quatermain, you go free Frankenstein. If there's any chance we can prevent Dracula's children from coming to life, we'll have to take it. Kurt, Princess Anna, and myself will get the antidote. Skinner…"

He was silent for a moment, trying to think of something for him to do.

"The lab equipment," said Mrs. Harker. "The machines that transfer energy from Frankenstein to Dracula's children; they need to be destroyed so they can never be used again. And you are invisible, no one will see you."

"But we have no explosives," said Anna. Skinner held up his hands. We couldn't see his face because he didn't have his greasepaint on, but I was sure he was grinning.

"Anything can be made into a bomb. A few raw materials, assembled the right way…and at that, I am the master."

"I'll help you," Jekyll put in. He reached into his coat and pulled out a vial of clear liquid. "I think Hyde may be of some use to you."

"What is that?" I asked, staring at the vial.

"This, Gabriel," he said holding it up for me to see, "is either the greatest, or the most dangerous, discovery I have ever made. With this formula, man can unleash his evil side, the side that was always meant to be caged within the human heart. I meant to create a formula that would bring out all the good in a man, but instead I created this."

"So…wait a minute," I frowned. My poor brain was getting more scrambled by the second. "So you need that thing to become Hyde?"

"Yes," the redhead replied. "Once I drink this, I become Edward Hyde. My transformation, I must tell you, is not pretty. It's sort of like yours, but about ten times worse."

"You actually transform into something else?" That I wasn't aware of. I had thought they were just two personalities in the same body.

Jekyll nodded.

"So when you say Hyde is a monster, you literally mean a monster?"

He nodded again, smiling.

"And when I say he can wring your neck, he can literally wring your neck."

I bristled, feeling the hair scatter across my body. For some reason, that didn't agree with me. How bad _was_ this guy? Maybe I didn't want to find out.

With that settled, there was one member left.

"Mrs. Harker?"

"Dorian Gray has lived long enough. Tonight, we cleanse the world of evils that should have been purged long ago." She turned to me. "Good luck, Ghost Wolf. If we never meet again, know that you will be lifting a huge weight from my heart tonight. And if Dracula's death means my own, then to you, I shall be eternally grateful. Just leave me alive long enough to do someone a favor that's long overdue."

There was a nasty gleam in her eyes as she said this, and I knew exactly what kind of favor she was talking about. I think we all hated Dorian Gray from the beginning. For a moment, a pang of sadness ran through me. Despite her chilly attitude, skeptical outlook on life and the bossy way she treated me, as though she were a mother and I was her child, this could be the last time we ever saw each other, and I would miss her when she was gone.

"I'll never forget you, Mrs. Harker," I said. "I'll be thinking of you as I rip the bastard's head off!"

She smiled. Kurt took me by the shoulders and turned me around to face him.

"You can be human again, Gabriel. You do not have to be a werewolf any longer. I will get the cure for you…" he cupped my face in his hands, and that strange, warm feeling began to radiate through my chest again.

"…but only if you want me to."

Even though I knew my answer, I still hesitated. I no longer wished to be a werewolf. I was tired of killing people for blood, and I was weary of their screams. I was sick of all the fear and the terror and the death. I wanted a new life, a fresh start. I would miss the increased strength and speed, and the ability to regenerate quickly, but I would gladly give it all up to be normal again. I knew why I had become a werewolf in the first place, and when it was done, I wanted my reward for fulfilling my destiny. I wanted my life back.

"Yes," I said. "Go get it for me."

I broke away from him and grabbed Igor by two fistfuls of his shirt.

"You're going to take these three and lead them to the antidote," I said. If anyone knew where the antidote was, he probably did.

"No, I'm not," the stubborn hunchback replied, trying to be either difficult or brave. I pulled him towards me and slammed him violently back into the stone wall, snarling deep in my throat, no longer sounding human. I bared my sharp teeth, and my yellow eyes flashed, and he quickly changed his mind.

"Yes, I am."

Van Helsing grabbed a strange gold instrument that I just noticed the hunchback had been carrying. It had two handles and two holes in the top. He squeezed the handles together, and blades closed the holes. He repeated this action a couple of times, showing us what it was for.

"If you even suspect him of misleading you," he said to Anna, Karl and Kurt. "Clip off one his fingers."

Anna took the instrument from him, a downright frightening look in her eyes.

"Oh, I'll clip off something."

It was then that Igor spoke of his own will.

"The tower over there!" he gasped, pointing. "It is there!"

"What about the other tower?" I asked. Did he think he could fool me?

He groaned and looked as though he might not reply. I acted quickly. Without taking my eyes from his, I reached behind me and yelled to Anna, "Give me that!" I didn't know if I really would have chopped off his fingers or not, but I didn't need to find out, because the threat was enough. He began talking again, his words stumbling over each other in their hurry to get out.

"Th-that is where we've reassemb-bled the l-laboratory. Would I lie to you?"

I didn't like the slippery tone of this last sentence. I pushed him back into the wall all the way, and though I was shorter, I brought my face right up close to his. I pulled my lips all the way back to my gums so he could see the full extent of my fangs, shining and dripping with saliva when I opened my jaws. He smelled foul and probably tasted that way too, but human blood was human blood, something I had not had in a few days, and I could hear his heartbeat, frantic with terror, and could smell his fear. If there was anything I was good at, it was scaring people.

"Not if you wanted to live," I growled, my voice a deadly whisper. Then I backed away from him. I know he smelled the blood on my breath, even though I had not fed in a few days. It's something that never really leaves a werewolf alone, I think.

"Gabriel," said Van Helsing. I looked at him.

"What?"

He pulled something silver out of his pocket and looked gravely around at us all.

"If something happens to that antidote, or for some reason, it doesn't work…" he pushed a tiny button on the silver thing and it expanded into a huge silver stake. We all jumped at the sound, and my eyes got big. No more words were needed. He understood, and so did I. Van Helsing's job was ridding the world of evil monsters like me. If Karl, Anna, and Kurt lost the antidote, or if they got it into me and nothing happened, then I was dead. As I stared at the light glinting off the silver surface, I wondered if Van Helsing got me from behind, I would live long enough to see the point come out the side of my chest.

In a way, I would have to accept my fate. Maybe it was best. Maybe, once I had accomplished my task, God would have no further use for me. Maybe, once I had killed Dracula, there was no other reason for me to be on the earth. Maybe, in the end, it was ultimately the right thing.

Although, I hoped that this was not true. I hoped that I could have another chance, a second try to live a good life, not one filled with blood and revenge.

My trance was broken when Van Helsing closed the stake and put it back into his pocket. I looked at Kurt as he opened his mouth.

"You cannot kill her!"

"Never mind," I said. I grabbed him by the jacket lapels, stressing on him the importance of the mission before him. "Just get that cure, and by God, don't lose it!"

He looked at me, and his hands closed around mine.

"I do not want to lose you," he said gently, and I cocked my head to the side just like a confused dog.

"What?"

"Surely you have guessed by now my feelings for you. I do not know if I could have been more blunt in my expressions."

I was confused. He wasn't saying…was he? Did I dare believe it was true?

"I'm not getting you," I told him. His hands left mine, and cupped my face again.

"Even when I first saw you, I knew you were different. Special. How you crept into my heart, I shall never know. I know that you have not lived a pure and virtuous life, but that does not matter. God teaches us to have pity on those who are lost, and to love everyone as yourself. I think God sent you to me to help me realize just how empty my life really was. I want to help you. I find I must be near you always, and now that I have met you, I cannot imagine life without you. Gabriel…I love you."

I stared at him. I had been expecting something else to come from his lips, and yet somehow, I'd known what he was going to say before he said it. And now that it was out there in the open, I realized that I had been in love with him this whole time, I just didn't know it. From the moment I'd caught his scent back in the church, and knew that he was no more human than I was, I realized that a spark had been started, and as our journey progressed and we spent more time together, it had been fanned into a flame that was now a roaring bonfire in my chest. I now knew the look that he'd had in his eyes every time he spoke to me, the gentle way he'd nursed me back to health when I was sick, and even the way he'd saved my soul earlier today. It all was because he loved me, and I realized I loved him back.

"I love you too," I said, then a sound made us turn and look at Anna and Van Helsing kissing with such intensity I thought they were going to hurt themselves if they weren't careful. We turned back to each other.

"If I never see you again, I want you to know that," he said, suddenly embarrassed.

"I know," I said. "Now go! It's time to end this once and for all!"

I pushed him away from me. It wasn't that I denied him, nor was I trying to hurt his feelings, but if we didn't hurry, Dracula would awaken his children, and the slaughter of humankind would begin.

He held onto my hand for a moment longer, and then he turned and ran after Karl, Anna and Igor. Van Helsing, Quatermain, and I looked at each other as the rest of the League went their separate ways.

"I bet wherever Frankenstein is, Dracula will be there too," said Van Helsing.

"And we're better off traveling in groups," said Quatermain. "Just in case we encounter something nasty."

"Yeah," I agreed, and we began to ascend a spiral staircase that lead up the tower where Igor had said Dracula's laboratory was.

**Hope you enjoyed the Kurt/Gabriel fluff there. She's not really the kind of girl he would fall in love with, but sometimes, you just can't resist those bad girls! Now you know why I made my main character a werewolf, so she can take the spotlight away from Van Helsing and kill Dracula herself. Sorry, VH fans! Actually, I wasn't even thinking about that when I was creating her, but then all the puzzle pieces fell into place, and I consider myself quite clever for the way things have turned out.**

**The next chapter will definitely be the second to last one (because I have a epilogue,) and it may take a while to get it written out, what with school, my other fics, writer's block, and because it's the most difficult chapter to work out. Head's up, people will die!**

**What _is_ Frankenstein trapped by in that scene, anyway?**


	12. Chapter 11: Redemption

**FINALLY! I thought I'd never get this done! Sorry for the wait guys, hope I haven't lost anyone. I really like the way this has turned out. Don't worry; it's not the end. I'm in the process of writing the epilogue, and I'll probably have it posted sometime next week.**

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it from any of the movies, it ain't mine!  
**

"This is going to take forever!" I panted, forcing my legs to once again lift up to the next step. The winding staircase seemed endless, though I could hear the crackling and popping of sparks. That meant we were getting close.

Van Helsing, who was in the front, stopped us so we could take a breather, then he looked up the shaft we were circling. Copying him, we saw that we still had a ways to go until we reached our goal, and we were already tired. It also didn't help that we probably had absolutely no time left to save Frankenstein.

"I've got a better idea," said the assassin, and before we could say something, he grabbed onto the chain that was hanging in front of us. What it was for, I had no idea, and what it would do when weight was put on it, I was sure I didn't _want_ to know, but as Van Helsing started to climb upwards and nothing happened, Quatermain and I followed suit, glad to give our burning thighs a rest and make our arms do the work instead. Bats flapped around us at the disturbance, but there were no complications as we ascended ever upward.

We reached the place where the flashing lights and crackling noises were coming from, and pulled ourselves up onto the ledge and into the laboratory itself. I remembered it from the last time I had been in here, drained of blood, feverish and barely alive, but now I was not afraid. I had to concentrate on my task at hand, or the world as we knew it would be over, and I couldn't let my fear of strange machinery distract me.

A familiar roar made the three of us look up. Through a hole in the ceiling we could see Frankenstein strapped to that metal apparatus I recognized from when it had been used before. Lightening crashed all around him, and the rain was pouring down in buckets. Man, the weather was unpredictable here. Not like in New York, where it was either sunny for weeks, rainy for weeks, or snowy for weeks. Here it did all of that in one night. As we watched, a bolt of lightening struck him and sent a wave of green energy down the wires and exploded in a pool of gross-looking water encased in a huge metal tub. The electricity that burst out of it knocked us off our feet and sent the (what were they called again?) Dracula's servants flying, many of them in flames. The wave passed, and I realized that this was how Dracula brought his children to life. Frankenstein transferred the electricity from the lightening to the machines below, then it traveled along the wires through the castle to the little vampires, bringing them to life.

And one bolt had been released. He still needed one more to wake them up. We still had a little time.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" I cried to the men. "Get up there! Set him free!"

There were two stone pillars with carvings on them that sort of resembled the totems of the native people of my country. Using these, they would be able to access the roof fairly easily. I pointed this out to them, and they went on their way. There was no sign of Dracula, so I busied myself with fending off the Duergi (that's what they were!) who had begun to notice we were there.

I spotted one trying to pull Quatermain down by one of his boots, and I lunged, tucking all four arms and legs under me like a dog. When I reached him, all my limbs shot out and knocked him facefirst into the wall. I heard the _clink_ of breaking glass, and I knew I had busted his goggles. I was probably going to regret it, but my curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see what these weirdoes looked like up close, so I spun him (it?) around so I could get a look at his face.

As I had expected, I immediately wished I hadn't. The creature had round, rolling eyes white as pearls, no nose that I could see and a mouthful of small, spiky teeth like sewing needles. I didn't see anything else; that was enough for me. I gave a cry of disgust and threw him out the window that was next to us, breaking the glass, and he fell to his death down the cliff face.

When that out of the way, I looked up and could see Van Helsing and Quatermain working furiously to unscrew the bolts that held Frankenstein to his trap. But they couldn't free him in time. Another flash of lightening struck, and another wave of green energy went flooding into Dracula's children.

Fabulous. Now I would really have to kill Dracula. But where was he?

A huge explosion made me jump and whirl around, causing me to lose my balance and fall. I hit the stone floor, but because I wasn't very tall, it wasn't a long drop, and I didn't break anything. As I got to my feet, another explosion, this time on my left, nearly knocked me over again. I bristled, but then I realized what was happening. The machines were blowing up, which meant that Skinner was around here somewhere.

Which also meant that Jekyll wasn't far behind.

A huge, hulking figure appeared on my right, lifting up another machine clear off the ground, bringing it smashing back down, causing it to spark and burst into flames. But none of this registered with me because I knew I was face-to-face with Mr. Edward Hyde.

When Dr. Jekyll said he underwent a complete and total transformation, he wasn't kidding. The thing that stood before me had to be at least ten or twelve feet tall, a misshapen boulder of solid muscle. His head was elongated and pointed at the top like a cone, and sunk between hunched shoulders with bushy sideburns that stuck out like a mane. His eyes were bloodshot, but their irises were the exact color of his timid counterpart, so much in fact that it made me gasp, and I realized that Jekyll was trapped inside this beast's heart, powerless to do anything as Hyde wrecked havoc on the world around him.

The monster heard me, and turned his head to run his gaze over me. I knew trying to reason with him was pointless; the way Jekyll felt about me and the way Hyde felt about me were two totally different things. And, looking into those eyes now, I could see they were alive with the hottest of blue flames, and they were intent on killing me.

"So, Ghost Wolf," he thundered, and I recognized his voice as the one that had been threatening Jekyll the first night we were in Anna's castle. "We meet at last!"

He looked ready to wring my neck, just like he had promised to do when we first met. Great. Now, not only did I have to fight Dracula, but I had to fight one of my own team members. Well, as long as I kept him from killing me, and as long as I didn't bite him, we would probably be fine.

He swung one of his huge, ape-like arms towards me, trying to punch my lights out, but my small size enabled me to dodge the blow easily, making him crash into the machine behind me instead. As I rolled out of his way, an idea hit me over the head like a brick. I could use Hyde's hatred against me to further destroy the lab, thereby helping Skinner out and preventing the machinery from being used ever again. An explosion as yet another machine blew up made Hyde look over to his left, giving me enough time to grab a piece of metal that was lying around and throw it at him, hitting him on the head from the right.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Over here, you big dummy!"

He turned is head, saw me, and roared, coming after me again. I ducked out of the way again, and his huge fist came smashing down on a machine that had been blown up already, further destroying it. I led him on a wild goose chase around the lab, letting him get within striking range, then jumping out of the way so that he crushed something else that wasn't me. The three of us made a pretty good team, even if Hyde was trying to kill me, and I thought we were doing well, until a horrible laugh rang around the room, turning the blood cold in my veins.

Taking cover so I could observe my surroundings and not have to dodge Hyde, I saw Dracula standing at the other side of the room, his arms spread wide as thought to embrace someone, a triumphant look on his face.

"You are too late, my friends!" he yelled, referring to me, Hyde, and the men on the roof, because, of course he couldn't see Skinner. "My children live!"

Well, that was fine. The little nightmares below us may be flapping around right now, but we had the advantage. All I need to do was tear this bastard's head off and our problem was solved.

But I had to get ahold of the bastard first. I was about ready to get up and face him, but he suddenly began to grow, change shape, and two huge wings sprouted out of his back. He was turning into that bat-creature that had terrified me so the last time, but now that I had already seen it, I was no longer afraid. This time, I knew what I had to do, and the advantage was mine. I was going to do what I had to do and get this over with, and pray to God that Van Helsing and his silver stake didn't get me.

Though Van Helsing's silver stake was hardly the sum of my problems. Nine feet tall, he was covered with leathery skin the color of parchment. His hands and feet ended in talons like an eagle, his mouth was full of long, sharp teeth that looked like they could inflict some serious damage, and his eyes were glowing red like coals. His hair was a mop of greasy black tendrils, and the noise that came out of his mouth was nothing short of painful to the ears. So much for being handsome, charming and beguiling. I was pretty sure that, of the dozens of men and women he had seduced and drained dry over the centuries, very few had seen this form. I was glad I had, because I would never be able to look upon his human form again without thinking about this one.

Dracula took off in a huge gust of wind, and looking out from my hiding place, I saw what he was after. Up on the roof, Van Helsing and Quatermain had succeeded in freeing Frankenstein, and were preparing to safely get him out when Dracula swooped down on them and knocked them all down. Quatermain fell headfirst into the laboratory, but Van Helsing and Frankenstein were knocked off the tower completely. I took a moment of silence to grieve for them, knowing that it was a long way down the mountain.

The bright side was, Frankenstein would never be used to operate Dracula's lab again, and Van Helsing was no longer around to stake me.

Destroy Dracula and get that cure, and it would be a good day.

With renewed energy, I jumped out of my hiding place as he went after Hyde, trying to scratch his eyeballs out with the sharp claws on his back feet. If it was down to Van Helsing or Jekyll, I would save Jekyll, even if he was trapped inside Hyde's body. I couldn't let such a sweet man lose his life in such a horrible way, especially since he had tried his hardest to save me when I was sick. I took a running jump, bounced off the wall, and as I had calculated, landed directly on the bat-creature's shoulders. Reverting back to my childhood days when I used to bully the other girls when they laughed at me, I seized his pointed ears and pulled hard, twisting as I did so.

He shrieked in pain and fury, abandoned Hyde as I had hoped, and became more interested in throwing me off. He twisted and turned, flew upside down and backwards, trying to scratch me with his claws. I wrapped my legs tightly around his neck as I clung on for dear life. But when he started flying upwards, I knew it was time to get off, or else he was going to bash my head in on the ceiling. I didn't know if a blow like that would kill me, but I didn't want to find out. Letting go of his ears and stretching my legs out, I flipped backwards and fell through the air, landing on all four feet. I broke a couple of fingers and toes, but those were easily fixed. Once that was done, I pulled off my boots, just to make the transformation from girl to wolf easier. Righting myself, I stood up as Dracula landed in front of me changing back into his normal shape.

"Remember me?" I snarled, clenching my fists. He put on a mock thoughtful face, tapping a finger against his chin, I was sure he was taunting me, trying to make me lose my focus and do something stupid. I don't think he knew I was a werewolf yet, which for us was a good thing, but if he did, he didn't let on.

"Hmm, no. I cannot recall," he said.

"Yeah well, that's fine. I'm not interested in wasting my time jawing away to the likes of you," I growled, baring my teeth. "So let's just get this over with; I haven't got all night. Your kids are alive now, right?"

"That is right," he said.

"And the only way to kill them is to kill you," I continued, just to confirm our theory, and hear him seal his own doom. I can be mean like that sometimes.

"Correct," he answered.

"Good. Then let's get to it."

I grabbed the collar of my robe and ripped it open all the way down to the bottom hem, momentarily forgetting that it was not mine. I saw his eyes flash hungrily at the sight of my naked form, then turn quickly to worry as white hair began to grow and my body rearranged itself.

"No!" I heard him gasp as my face lengthened and ears sprouted at the top of my head. "This cannot be!"

_Oh, but it is,_ I wanted to say, but the words came out a bark instead. My black-haired nemesis let out a laugh and changed himself, and we battled it out. I lunged and he eagerly met me. Locked in our struggle, we tore through the lab, dodging Hyde as he continued to vent on the equipment, and Skinner too, hopefully, because none of us could see him. The machines had stopped blowing up, so I could only hope that he had found a safe corner to hide in, out of the way of all these big monsters that were now ripping the room to pieces. I also didn't see any signs of Quatermain, and hoped that he had gotten out of the way as well.

I snapped at the creature in my paws, trying to inflict a fatal wound, but all I managed to do was nick the skin, while he gouged me pretty good with his claws. I had to avoid getting bitten as well, because if he got his teeth into me and tasted my blood, I was finished. I had been lucky the last time; there was no telling if my luck would hold up this time.

Dracula threw me against the wall and I felt a couple of ribs crack. As I got to my feet and repaired the damage, I happened to glance down and witness an amazing sight.

He had thrown me against the wall next to the window I had broken, and looking out of it, I could see that, on a bridge connecting this tower to the other, a group of people were huddled together. Though it was hard to tell in the rain, I could just make out Anna and Van Helsing clutching each other, Karl clutching onto Van Helsing, and Frankenstein standing rather stupidly, unsure of what to do. The four of them were crouched behind Kurt, who was standing upright with one of his arms outstretched, holding something in his hand. Dracula's third and final bride was flapping menacingly over them, shrieking at the top of her lungs, but she couldn't come any closer, because the object Kurt had in his hand was his rosary. He held it by the beads and strangely, the cross was glowing with a bright white light. Over the rain and her howling, I could make out his voice, yelling something in German, probably a scripture or a prayer. Whatever it was, it was working. He had something in his other hand, but I couldn't tell what it was. I wondered if they had reached the cure, and I was also glad to see that Van Helsing and Frankenstein were okay. They had really worried me after I'd lost sight of them when they went over the side of the tower.

Deciding that they had the situation pretty much under control down there, I turned my attentions back to my own job. Dracula was beginning to rise up in the air, but I wasn't sure what he was up to. Not about to let him go through with it, I quickly swept my yellow eyes over the scene trying to figure out the best way to get up there. The only thing I could use, I found to my dismay, was Hyde, provided he didn't move. So, before he could, and before Dracula could get any higher, I ran, jumped up on Hyde's massive shoulders, and then jumped again, catching Dracula's foot in my jaws. He roared in pain and tried to kick me off, but it did no good. And, because he wasn't strong enough to support the both of us, he dropped like a stone. Unfortunately, when we hit the ground, he landed on top of me, and gained the upper hand. He punched me several times, knocking me slightly dizzy, then , pinning my head back, he opened his mouth, preparing to sink his teeth into my neck. I couldn't let that happen, so I collected all my feet under him and pushed him off, sending him flying. He caught in a giant electrical turbine that had miraculously escaped our demolition process and was switched back to his smaller, less dangerous form. Shakily, he got to his feet, staring down at me with something between horror and amazement.

"What are you?" he asked me as I rolled over and stood up, giving myself a brisk shake.

I wanted to say, "Your worst nightmare," but I barked instead.

"The moonlight is hidden by the clouds, but yet you still retain your wolfish shape," he mused. I jumped up onto the wooden walkway he was standing on and advanced on him, snarling. All my hackles were raised, my lips were pulled back, and my eyes were ablaze. I had flattened my ears to the back of my head, deep in my bloodstained fur to further prove my point. I was done playing games. In the next few minutes, someone was going to die, and it sure as heck wasn't going to be me.

He must have gotten my message, because he began to talk faster in a rushed, panicky voice. He had the turbine behind him, and me in front. He had nowhere to go, unless he changed and went up. I would have to be prepared for that.

"I remember you now," he said. "Gray warned me about you. You're Gabriel Lucian, the American werewolf!"

Wow. Somebody give this guy top marks for observation.

"It doesn't have to end this way, Gabriel! We could be friends; partners! Think of the power you could have if you joined me now!"

All I was thinking about was how I was going to steel myself against the gag reflex as his foul blood filled my mouth. I continued advancing, crouched low to the ground, no nonsense in my stance and no mercy in my eyes. Dracula could see this because, sure enough, he changed and took off, straight up into the air. Fortunately, I had been anticipating this move, and I jumped after him, landing on his back before he got six feet in the air. As expected, we careened through the air, soaring scarily over the turbine, and finally falling into the stone floor. This time, I had the advantage, and I used it. I buried my fangs into the back of his neck, ripping the flesh with a sharp jerk of my head. Despite the horrible taste, I tore through the tendons and tissue, ignoring the screaming he made until I severed his windpipe and reduced it to a whistling as the air rushed out of his lungs. Finally, I seized his backbone in my jaws and, grinding my teeth down, crushed it.

By this point, he had already begun to crumble, the flesh shrinking back from the bones, which then turned to dust beneath my feet. I stepped back, shaking the dust off my paws and spitting black blood out of my mouth. As I stood proudly over my kill, I felt an invisible hand ruffle my ears, and Skinner's voice say "Mighty good job you've done there, Ghost Wolf. Mighty good job indeed."

I licked the hand I couldn't see, and I heard him chuckle as both hands began to rub my head. From the location of the hands, I guessed that he was right in front of me, and probably kneeling down, so I took a wild stab and licked at the air in front of me. My tongue came into contact with his nose, and he laughed more as I progressed over the rest of his face. We took a moment to share our victory as I imagined all the thousands of baby vampires popping like grapes in the entrance hall. I'd done it. The vampire threat had been abolished forever.

However, we didn't get much time to celebrate, because at that moment, a loud screech announced the arrival of a very uninvited guest. Dracula's redheaded bride came screaming through the broken window, Princess Anna in her clutches. She threw her across the room, and she hit the wall. While Skinner probably winced at just the impact, my sharp ears caught another noise: the sound of bones breaking. She slid down the wall and didn't move, and it was only moments later that I smelled her death-scent.

A bang distracted us, and I turned to see Kurt appear with Van Helsing and Karl. I immediately wondered where Frankenstein was, but there would be time for answers later. Right now, we had bigger things to worry about. Van Helsing saw me, still in wolf form, and reached into his pockets, pulling out the stake and extending it. I whimpered, and Kurt shouted, "No!" I heard Skinner's knees pop as he stood up and said, "Easy now, Abraham!"

I was confused, and alarmed. Had something happened to the cure? Why was I suddenly on Van Helsing's hit list without a chance to explain myself?

Kurt pulled out a huge syringe filled with a blood-red liquid from inside his jacket. His yellow eyes flashed, but Van Helsing had already begun to run towards me. I let out another whimper, but I couldn't move. All four of my feet were rooted to the spot, and terror had frozen my legs stiff. Neck and neck they raced towards me, while I could only stand there helplessly and await whatever the one who reached me first had in store for me. They both raised their arms, tools in hand, and I closed my eyes, flinching.

A small, sharp pain entered me somewhere around my hip, and that was it. Then, a terrible scream made me open my yellow eyes, and I saw the vampire bride in front of me, the point of Van Helsing's stake sticking out between her breasts. She had only one chance to scream before she dissolved the same way Dracula had. The stake clattered onto the floor.

I looked behind me and saw that Kurt hand shoved the syringe into my body, and it was empty. The liquid was inside me now, rapidly running though my bloodstream until it reached my heart.

Something must have been happening already, because Kurt slowly withdrew the needle and said, "Everyone stand back."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a huge flash of white light caused them all to fall over. I could feel my body reforming as all my hair fell away and disintegrated on the floor. I closed my eyes, letting the warm sensations that were now flooding my senses run through me. When they subsided, I opened and the entire League, now getting to their feet, gasped. They were all staring at me with wide eyes, and I figured it was probably because I was still naked. I looked down, suddenly and weirdly embarrassed, and gasped myself. My skin was no longer white, but ruddy and pink, and I could see locks of dark brown hair that tumbled in thick waves over my shoulders. I held my hands up before my eyes, hardly daring to believe them, wondering if they weren't playing tricks on me. Then I noticed something that almost brought tears to my eyes. The skin of my thigh, where I had been bitten as a young child, was as smooth as the rest of my body. The scar was no longer there, which could only mean one thing. The cure truly had worked, and I was no longer a werewolf.

I felt Kurt place my robe over my shoulders in an effort to cover me in the presence of the men. I looked at him gratefully, and he cupped my cheek in his hand, stroking the skin with his thumb.

"You should see yourself," he said. The cheek he held in his hand was the one that had been scarred, and as he ran his thumb over it, I realized that those scars were also gone. Looking over my body again, I saw that every scar I had collected over the years as the Ghost Wolf, bullet holes and gashes from running over the rooftops, had vanished. Just because you have accelerated healing abilities doesn't mean that the wounds don't leave scars behind. But they were all gone, and the only one that remained was the one from Dracula's fangs, though it had been minimized, and no longer stretched across my throat.

"My God," I said. "I can't believe this."

"Do not doubt your senses," said Kurt, lifting my hair out of my robe and letting it fall down my back. I looked at the stake on the ground, amazed that it hadn't hit me.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Well, if I was crazy, I would say that the vampire was either committing suicide or saving you from a horrible fate," said Skinner. "But I think that what happened was that she was trying to make a grand, thrilling exit stage right, but she wasn't fast enough and ended up skewered. Rather sad, really."

I put my arms through the sleeves of the robe and held it in place by crossing them over my chest. I would find something to tie it with later.

"Wow," I said. I was beginning to notice the difference in my human senses already. I couldn't see little details very clearly, and my hearing definitely not as sharp. I could no longer smell Anna's death-scent, for which I was tremendously thankful.

And I noticed something else, too. My hunger for blood was gone.

Karl and Van Helsing were kneeling over Anna's limp form, checking for a pulse and seeing if she had any other vital signs. I found I didn't have the heart to tell them she was already dead, so I just let them roll her broken neck over in their hands to find out for themselves.

As could be expected, when the words, "She's dead," left Karl's lips, Van Helsing looked like he was going to crumble into pieces. He put his forehead in his hand and blew out a sigh. None of us said anything, no one wanting to further agitate him or make him lose his temper.

A noise behind us made us turn around, and we saw Jekyll emerge from behind a machine, pale, disheveled, and missing his shirt.

"So is he," he said, and we all frowned.

"Who is?" asked Van Helsing, his voice heavy.

"Come see," was the skinny redhead's answer, and we all flocked over, wondering who else of our party didn't make it. I had a nasty suspicion I already knew who it was, but I kept my mouth shut, just in case I was wrong.

But I wasn't. As we rounded the corner of the machine, we found Allan Quatermain, lying on his back with his hands folded on his stomach, his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful, all the hardness gone from his old face.

"Broken neck," said Jekyll. "He had a pretty nasty fall and landed the wrong way up."

We all bowed our head in respect as Karl said a prayer for the hunter who had led us all the way here, sort of like our de jure leader, though no one had officially declared it, at least to my knowledge. Despite his grumpy, aloof demeanor, he was a pillar of strength that held us together and made all the important decisions, whatever the consequences may have been.

He would be sorely missed, but he had gone the way a hero should go: in the line of battle, fighting for what was right and good.

When Karl had finished, we raised our heads and looked around at each other. Now what?

A clicking of shoes made us turn around, and my heart leapt with joy when Mrs. Harker appeared in a doorway.

"Mrs. Harker!" Kurt exclaimed happily, and she smiled. Then she looked at me, and her face blanked, either in shock or amazement.

"Oh my," she said. "Is it…?"

"Yeah, it's me," I said. "I'm human again."

She walked up to me, staring at me as though she'd never seen me before.

"Good heavens," she breathed. "Your eyes…"

"What color are they?" I asked, realizing that I still did not know.

"Brown," she answered, and I smiled. Just like I'd hoped.

"So it seems Dracula's death had no effect on you after all," I said.

"You killed him?"

I nodded. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, then slowly let it out again.

"Then it is over," she said softly.

"What about Gray?" Jekyll spoke up, and she looked at him, her green eyes all aglow. He blushed, being half-dressed in female company.

"Dracula was kind enough to leave his painting in his room. All I had to do was unwrap it."

None of us wanted to think about what he must have suffered as he went from young and fresh and beautiful to a rotting corpse and then to a pile of dust, but the scheming traitor deserved no less.

"So that's why he did it," said Jekyll. "Dracula stole his portrait and promised to return it if he gave him information about us."

"He would have been better off if the vampire had kept the painting and not his word," said Van Helsing, and we all nodded, but I was biting back laughter. I had never liked Mr. Dorian Gray, and firmly believed that he deserved the horrible fate he suffered at the hands of his vengeful vampire lover.

He would _not_ be missed.

I felt two warm hands encircle mine and, turning to the left, I saw Kurt bring them up to his chest. His eyes looked deep into mine, and he smiled sadly.

"I…I don't know what to say," he said. "You just…you are so beautiful…I can't…"

"Oh hush," I said, taking my hand out of his and placing it on his lips. "I love you. And you of all people should believe that appearances don't matter when you're in love."

"My appearance does not matter to you?"

"Did mine?"

"No."

"Then neither does yours."

"Gabriel, I…"

I put my hand to his lips again, silencing him immediately.

"I guess since I'm no longer a werewolf, I should no longer go by my werewolf name. I was Jane Cole when I was human, so that's who I'll be from now on."

He moved closer to me, and our hands squashed between our bodies as they pressed together. My heart was pounding in my ears. He was so close, is eyelids hooding over.

"Well then, Jane," he whispered, and his warm breath brushed my lips as he leaned his head forward. I was barely aware that I was trembling slightly. I was a little afraid, but at the same time shivering with anticipation.

His hands let go of mind, traveled down my body and entwined around my waist, pulling me closer to him until there was no more space between us. He kept leaning forward, his eyes closing, and he didn't stop. I knew what was coming; I closed my own eyes and a shiver ran through my body when his lips touched mine. Unlike his hands, which were callused from years of living on the streets, they were so soft and warm, and I could feel his long eyelashes brush my cheek. I put my arms around him, pressing the top of his back with my flattened hands, pulling him down to me, his heartbeat to mine. Where had he been my whole life? How had I managed to survive nearly nineteen years without his touch? How had I slept through the days without his gentle voice in my ear, and how could I have preferred the blood of innocents to the taste of his kiss?

He broke away, leaving me standing there with my eyes still closed, still savoring the memory of his lips on mine.

"Gabriel," he said, and I opened my eyes. He was still very close, still holding me in his arms.

"You don't have to say anything," I said. "And it's Jane now, remember?"

But he was shaking his head, smiling. My stomach did a backflip. He was so cute when he smiled. How could he think that he didn't deserve me because of the way he looked? To me, he was beautiful, inside and out, and a girl would have to be either spoiled rotten or downright mad to refuse him.

He wrapped his arms tighter around me, and I followed suit. I could feel myself blushing madly.

"You will always be my angel Gabriel to me," he said softly, and pulled my lips to his for another kiss.

**So, for anyone wanting to see Gabriel and Hyde interact, there you go. And for anyone who wanted Mrs. Harker to live, yay! I guess Dracula's death didn't have an effect on his brides after all. Little creative license of mine. Hey, I didn't want her to die, either.**

**I think that scene with Kurt and his crucifix would make a great picture. So if anyone knows how to draw...**

**And seriously, the weather changed every freakin' scene in the Van Helsing movie. Just thought I'd point that out.**


	13. Chapter 12: Goodbyes and Hellos

**Surprise! It's not the end! The epilogue turned out to be a lot longer than I had originally anticipated, long enough to break into three other chapters. So fear not; there's more to come.**

**Yeah, I had to throw that fake-out with the stake in the previous chapter. It may not have been logical, but I wanted to throw some suspense in there. Plus, one more action scene can't hurt, can it?  
**

**So, what has become of our beloved (and maybe not-so-beloved) characters? Let's find out, shall we? Disclaimer: I only own Gabriel and anything you don't recognize.**

Eventually, though it took a little time, we found our way out of Dracula's castle and the Carpathians. By the time we arrived back at Anna's castle, we were dirty, disheveled, and starving due to our long trek over the over the mountain landscapes with no food and little shelter from the elements. It was even more difficult because  
Anna and Quatermain's bodies were dragging us down. Dracula's castle reeked of evil; we couldn't leave them there. They had to come back with us and have a proper burial.

No one spoke much over the few days our journey took us. Even Skinner had silenced his usual, joking manner for a solemnity that was alien for him, probably out of respect for the dead. It was indeed eerie to have them with us: to open your eyes after a hard night's sleep, if you could call it that, on the rough, rocky soil, and see them lying on their backs with their eyes closed as if in sleep, but knowing that the only way they were going to rise was when they were lifted from the ground by the hands of those that were going to bury them. It was rather creepy and definitely unsettling to wake up and see them there, pale and unmoving. I was glad I was no longer a werewolf, for the constant smell of death would have driven me mad.

After we had fed, rested, and cleaned up, we called the townspeople together, to arrange a funeral for Quatermain, and to inform them that Dracula, his wives, and all of his vile creations had been destroyed. Van Helsing gave this speech, and when he was asked who was responsible for the eradication of the monster, everyone looked at me.

At first, I did know what to say. I just stared back at them, my face probably as blank as theirs were expectant. I hadn't been expecting to go into details. I'd just thought we would tell them Anna was dead, Dracula with her, and they would be content with that.

"I…" I started, then I realized that I had no idea what I wanted to say. I couldn't tell them I had been a werewolf. What if they didn't believe me when I said I was completely cured? I felt Kurt slide a hand into mine, and I turned to look at him, though his face was hidden by the hood of Karl's borrowed robe. And, as if his hand were somehow a beacon of renewed confidence in me, I knew what I had to say.

"One of his werewolf servants turned on him," I said. The rest of the League stared at me with mixed expressions of shock, confusion, and "What they hell are you saying?" I ignored them and spoke in a loud, clear voice, "A werewolf is the only thing that can kill him." My grip on Kurt's hand tightened. "I was the only one who saw it happen."

I looked around at the other League members for support, and finally, beginning with Jekyll and Skinner, they began nodding their heads in agreement. I don't know if the townspeople ever truly accepted my story or not (they were a superstitious bunch, after all), but I didn't really care. Dracula was dead, and that was all they needed to care about.

Quatermain's funeral was held the next day, and when it was over, Van Helsing told us that this was the end.

"Anna said she had never been to the sea," he said in a gruff, choked voice. "Karl and I are going to hold a pyre for her there." He looked around at us. "You're all free to go your own ways now."

Skinner laid a hand on the assassin's shoulder.

"Don't even think about pushing us away yet, sir," he said with a smile. "We started this jolly expedition together, and by God, we'll finish it together!"

"You can't get rid of us yet, Abraham," said Jekyll kindly, putting the hand that wasn't holding Mrs. Harker's onto Van Helsing's other shoulder. "We would like to pay our respects to the fallen princess as well."

Something like a smile crept about Van Helsing's hardened features, and he regarded us with a grateful look in his eyes. We returned this look, our set faces reminding him that he didn't have to carry this burden alone. We were, after all, the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and we fought as a team, not by ourselves.

"So be it, then," said Van Helsing.

* * *

The place we picked to cremate Anna would have taken her breath away, had she any breath left in her. For the rest of us, it was just as beautiful. We stood on the edge of a cliff, the sapphire waters sparkling in the rays of the setting sun, staining the sky above a rainbow of gold, red, pink, orange, and purple in the sparse clouds. As my now human eyes looked over this view, perhaps duller now that I was no longer a werewolf, I thought to myself, _If I could have one last sunset on Earth, this would be it._

Karl read the Biblical verses fitting the ceremony, though the words meant little to me, being all in Latin. All I knew was that they were words of safe passage from this life to the next for the soul that was passing, and words of comfort to the souls of those who were still living. Though I was sad Princess Anna was no longer with us, I could not bring myself to cry, because I had not known her very well, and my thoughts towards her had not been kind while she was alive. To say that I regretted what I thought would not be a lie, yet when it came right down to it, the guilt was not so deep that it wrenched my gut, not did it break my heart.

It seems that, even though I was now human, I still retained some of my cold, wolfish feelings.

As Karl's prayers drew to a close, I looked up and saw Van Helsing raise his head, turn, and stare at a point somewhere on the horizon. I turned to see what he was staring at, but all I saw was the setting sun, the clouds around it like the frame of a painting. He must have been saying his own private goodbye to Anna, the words playing out silently in his head so none but Anna's spirit could hear them. There were tears in his eyes, and they made me realize that he had a heart too, despite what he might convey to the rest of the world.

Turning away to leave him in peace, I looked out instead to the dark blue waters that stretched out beneath us, and as I felt the heat of the flames as Van Helsing lit the dried sticks and straw we had placed under Anna's body, I saw a large, solitary figure on a raft made of logs roughly slung together. It had a paddle in its hands, which it used to propel itself further out into the water. Curious, I broke away from Kurt and wandered over the edge of the cliff so I could get a better look at the figure. Looking closer, I recognized the patchwork cloak on its back and realized that it was none other than Frankenstein, heading off to find adventures of his own. Silently, I wished him luck and protection from those who would be threatened by his horrific face, and that his path would only be crossed by those who would look past outward appearances and see the kind soul beneath.

"May God watch over you," I whispered out loud, and with that prayer, I sent Frankenstein on his way. What became of him I do not know. That was the last time I ever saw him. I can only hope he's still out there somewhere, and that he has not met his unfortunate end at the hands of some frightened peasant with a gun.

I returned to Kurt's side, and as he put his arms around me, I could see blood pooling in the corners of his eyes.

"Don't weep for her, Kurt," I said. "She's gone to a better place. She's with God now."

"I know," he said, wiping his eyes. "But it is always so sad when a soul of this world leaves us. She was so young to have her life cut short."

I patted the hand that was encircling my waist, and he gave me a squeeze. Together, we mourned the death of a woman so brave as to defend her family and everything she stood for, in the very face of Hell itself, right down to the bitter end. May she at last find peace and reward for her courage.

* * *

One year later, Her Royal Majesty held a ball and an official ceremony to honor the members of the League for their services to humanity. Kurt and I been living in New York City during that time, with me working in a small sewing store, trying to get by. He spent most of his time studying the Bible, intent on becoming a preacher once we had enough money to move out of the apartment we shared. It had been a hard year, so when we got the invitation, we were overjoyed. We had been promised a reward by our respective governments, which we would receive at the ceremony. We were also informed that an old friend would be picking us up to take us to London by sea.

When that day came, we stood together on a dock in New York City port, waiting for our transport to arrive, wondering who this friend was that the letter had mentioned.

A bubbling in the water caught our attention, and then an enormous white ship burst from the depths, causing us both to jump and gasp. Since Captain Nemo's death in Transylvania, we had often wondered about the fate of his beloved _Nautilus_, but had not been prepared to see it again. Nor were we prepared for what we saw when the gangplank was lowered and revealed a man we did not recognize, that is, until he put a pair of shaded pince-nez on his nose and cried out in a voice we _did_ recognize, "Welcome aboard, mateys!"

"Rodney Skinner!" said Kurt happily as he descended the ramp towards us.

"Ah, ah, ah," Skinner corrected him. "It's _Captain_ Rodney Skinner now."

He embraced us both, and I marveled how much he had changed over the past year. He had swapped his black leather trench coat for a captain's uniform, he stood up taller, and he carried himself with more presence. A scimitar hung at his side, and he looked stronger, but the thing that stood out the most was his rough, tanned skin.

He was no longer invisible.

"My God!" I cried as he let go of me. "I can see you!"

He nodded, and gestured for some sailors to pick up what little baggage we had. As soon as they had cleared out of the way, he led us up the ramp and into the _Nautilus,_ his arms around our shoulders.

"Yep," he said in response to my exclamation. "You see, an antidote to my invisibility was part of my reward, as well as the money, and of course, Nemo's ship."

"How on Earth did you get control of the _Nautilus?_" I asked as he led us to a sitting room and bade us sit down.

"Well, I never really been out of England before our little escapade last year, and I always wanted to see the rest of the world. Tea? Or something stronger?" He took off his pince-nez, and we could see his eyes were a light, honey-colored brown. "No, not for you; you're still too young."

He winked at me, and I scowled.

"Tea is fine, thank you," said Kurt, and a servant poured the tea, milk and sugar into three cups, serving them to us. Buttering a biscuit, Skinner continued his tale, telling us how he'd had difficulty convincing the sailors and crewmen that he could lead them. At first, they resented him, but as the months passed and he learned to fight with a scimitar as well as the martial arts Nemo had used, he gradually began to earn their respect.

"I still ain't Nemo, but I think they're warming to me," he said with a chuckle. "But the things I've seen, mates."

He dissolved into telling us about all the places he'd been: Africa, Australia, China, the wild, unexplored jungles of South America, and the wondrous things he'd seen there. He kept us entertained for hours with stories about the people, their customs, the land, and the adventures he'd had. Kurt and I listened intently, our own life suddenly modest and simple. We were happy for Skinner; he truly looked ecstatic as he described all the things he had seen, and I could not get over how much different he looked without his greasepaint. He looked so _alive_ without it to make his complexion seem so ghostly white, and it also helped to be able to see his eyes and read the laughter behind them. Though the beginnings of crow's feet were in the corners of his eyes, he suddenly appeared years younger.

Well after dinner, he finally drew his stories to a close.

"I think that's enough about me," he said, taking a drink from the glass of scotch he had in his hand. Kurt had a glass of absinthe, the only alcohol he could bring himself to drink, and I had another cup of tea, being too young for such luxuries. "What about you two? Are you married yet?"

We were a little taken aback by his blunt question, and for some reason, Kurt was struck speechless. He just sat there, yellow eyes wide, lips slightly parted, staring at the now-visible captain. I smiled, and spoke for him.

"No, we're not. We're still trying to get some money together."

"Oh," said Skinner. "Well then, I guess you're really looking forward to the reward money you'll be getting, huh?"

I smiled, but we didn't say anything. Kurt reached over and ran his fingers through a lock of my hair, but the silence that hung around us was very awkward. The past year had been very hard on us. Because of his frightening appearance, Kurt had been forced to stay inside, hidden from the world while I worked. My job didn't pay well, and there had been several times when we'd been threatened with eviction. We'd gone hungry more than once, and living in poverty had put a great strain on our relationship. There were other factors as well. In his mind, it was not acceptable for a man and a woman to live together unless they were married or brother and sister, but given the circumstances, we had no other choice. Kurt hated the idea that I was taking care of him, but I refused to let him leave. He loved me too much to burden me, and I loved him too much to force him out on the streets. At least with me, he'd be safe and warm. It was double-edged sword, but in the end, I won out. Still, it had been very difficult for both of us, and we never really had time to think about marriage, or at least I didn't. I don't know if he did; he never brought it up in conversation. I had sort of hoped he would propose, but then I remembered that we had no money, or at least we didn't then. However, with the arrival of that invitation were bound to come changes, better ones I hoped.

"Life has been…hard," said Kurt, withdrawing his hand from my hair. Of course, I agreed with him, but the mood was happy, and I didn't want to ruin it with our unfortunate story.

"Oh, I don't know," I said teasingly. "I think the hardest part for you was learning to call me Jane instead of Gabriel."

He smiled as I put my hand on his knee, and covered it with his own.

"Oh, that's right!" Skinner broke in, glad the atmosphere had warmed. "Because you're not the Ghost Wolf anymore!"

We both shook our heads.

"Well, I must say, you're grown more beautiful since we last parted, eh Wagner?"

He winked, I blushed, and Kurt smiled, his eyelids lowered.

"She was always beautiful to me."

My heart skipped. It had been a long time since he had said such sweet words to me. I grinned at him.

"I think that's the nicest thing I've heard you say in a while, Mr. Wagner," I said sweetly. He picked up my hand and kissed its back.

"Aww, ain't this sweet," said Skinner. He cleared his throat, raising his scotch glass, and we copied him. "Well, let's hope that the next few days bring us better luck. To the future."

"The future," we echoed, and two glasses and a teacup clinked together. We drank, all of us polishing off our drinks, and I yawned. I had suddenly realized just how tired I was. The men noticed, and Skinner stood up.

"Forgive me. It's late, and you should be in bed. Please, don't let me keep you."

We also rose as he leaned over and rang a bell.

"Thank you so much for your kindness, Captain," said Kurt, reaching over to shake Skinner's hand.

"Of course. I was in the neighborhood and I thought I'd drop by." Two servants appeared in the doorway, and he acknowledged them. "Show my guests to their rooms. Goodnight," he said to us. "Sleep well."

"Goodnight, Captain."

"Thank you."

* * *

The next morning when I entered the dining hall, I found Kurt and Skinner deep in a serious conversation. It must have been private, because they were leaning close to each other over the corner of the breakfast table, talking in low voices. Kurt was speaking, using his hands to accentuate his words, and Skinner was listening intently, nodding gravely in agreement. If I had still been a werewolf, I would have been able to pick up on what they were saying, but my ears were no longer that sharp, so I couldn't. 

They looked up, saw that I had come in, and immediately dropped their conversation, breaking into wide smiles as they rose.

"Good morning, my dear," said Kurt, coming over to take my hands and brush my lips in a soft kiss.

"I trust you slept well," said Skinner as we sat down to breakfast.

"Yes, I did," I said, politely thanking the servant who pushed my chair in behind me. "Did I interrupt anything?"

"They exchanged glances, then smiled.

"Oh no. Just some…business to settle. Nothing you need to worry your pretty head over."

I shot Skinner a rather unhappy look as he said this. I hated being talked down to just because I was a woman, but I knew I would not get an answer out of either one of them, so I decided not to question the matter further. Instead, I tucked into my breakfast.

**Hmmmm, what were Kurt and Skinner discussing, I wonder? I also wonder, can anyone guess? **

**Personally, I find myself very clever for coming up with what becomes of Skinner. Nice to see him finally learn some responsibility for once. I'm also not sure what the legal drinking age was back in the early 1900's, so I just took a little creative license. Want to find out what becomes of the rest of the cast? You know what to do!**


	14. Chapter 13: Dancing?

Thanks for all the reviews, and to all who've stuck by me this entire time! Seriously, you guys are so awesome! (sniff) You are the fuel of my writing! I could never have come so far without you! This is the last chapter before the epilogue, and I'll probably post some author's notes as well! It's been wonderful getting to know you all, and thanks for taking the time to read my stuff! Glad to know it's not been in vain! (bursts into tears and runs sobbing into a corner) It's almost over!

Disclaimer: At this point, I pretty much own everything except the LXG, Van Helsing, and X-Men characters.

* * *

Later that evening, we pulled into London's port. From there, Skinner and his first mate would take us to the Queen's palace in what he called an "automobile." When Kurt and I first saw it, our reaction was very similar to when we first saw the _Nautilus_: jump and gasp. It was as white as the ship, with wheels at the bottom like a carriage, except with no horses. Seeing our apprehensive faces, Skinner assured us it was safe, and we piled into it. The fact that it moved on its own took some getting used to, but once we did, it was rather fun. 

When we reached the Queen's palace and were escorted inside by some stiff-looking manservants, we were welcomed by very familiar faces, the most welcome to me was that of a woman with long, flowing red hair, milky white skin and emerald green eyes, clothed in a soft blue dress.

"Mrs. Harker!" I cried as we ran towards each other, clasping hands and kissing each other on the cheeks.

"Oh, it's Mrs. Jekyll now," she said, her alabaster face beaming. She too, looked so alive. I was not used to seeing her smile this big, nor was I used to seeing her dressed in anything other than black. My heart thudded to hear this news as I was approached by none other than my old friend, Dr. Henry Jekyll.

"Doctor!" I exclaimed, curtsying roughly. I didn't have a whole lot of experience in the matter, after all. He took my hand and kissed it, smiling all over the place.

"Is it still Ms. Cole, or…?" He looked over in Kurt's direction, who was shaking hands with Karl and Van Helsing.

"Yes, it is," I said, rather quietly, but there was no time to dwell on it, for at that moment we were all swept into a sitting room for tea and stories.

* * *

Though the Queen had numerous maidservants, Mrs. Harker (now Mrs. Jekyll) insisted on getting me ready for the ceremony herself. After I had bathed and dried off, she sat me down to arrange my hair, very much like she had the night I'd first stepped aboard the _Nautilus_, minus all the resistance on my part. She looked magnificent herself in a dress of forest green that brought out the darker shades of her eyes and her hair twisted with pearls and secured on the back of her head. 

"It's so weird not seeing you in black," I said as she let my hair down and brushed it. "Are you not a vampire anymore?"

Hey, I had to ask. The change in her was that striking.

"No," she said with a laugh. "There is no cure for my…affliction. But I am no longer a widow, so there is no need to mourn the loss of a husband. Or two, thanks to you," she added. I realized that this was now her third marriage. Her first had been to a Mr. Jonathan Harker, the man she fought alongside until he was killed by Dracula, then to Dracula himself, and now to Dr. Jekyll.

"What about Gray?" I asked.

"I never wed Dorian," she said bitterly. "We were only lovers."

I was silent as I thought about this. I supposed it was all right for two solitary immortals to take up a lover once in a while, especially if that lover was as lonely and immortal as you were.

"But that's all behind us now," she continued. "My dear Henry and I are so happy together. It's the happiest I've ever been since…well, since before Jonathan died."

I smiled, then a thought occurred to me. I was afraid to ask her, for fear of what her reaction would be, so I didn't say anything, but that didn't mean I didn't think about it. Did she intend to turn Jekyll into a vampire so they could be together forever? Did he want her to do such a thing? And what would happen when he grew old and died? Would she still be faithful to him? Or would she mourn his death for a few years, and then move on?

It seemed that even vampire relationships can be complicated.

Her voice broke my thoughts.

"What about you and Wagner? What's your story?"

"I've been working this past year, while he's been hiding out. I got an apartment, and he's been staying with me, just so he has a roof over his head and food to eat. He wants to be a preacher, though how he's going to get a job I have no idea. I guess we'll chew that food when we have to. But for now, we just worry about getting enough money together to survive."

"You know what I mean. When we last saw each other, even a blind man could see he was madly in love with you. Surely he would at least have proposed."

"I guess we just got so caught up in our financial lives that we didn't think about it. He still loves me dearly; I can tell, but he hasn't proposed yet."

"Has he compromised you?"

"Has he what?"

"Has he lain with you as a husband with his wife?"

"We sleep in the same bed, if that's what you mean."

"That's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?"

She told me, and I told her I had no idea what she was talking about. Here I was, nineteen years old and completely unaware of the relations between husband and wife. Fortunately, Mrs. Jekyll had enough experience in the matter to accurately describe the whole process to me. After all, she'd been married three times, and had many lovers over the centuries. She twisted my hair into a complicated knot as she spoke, and that was how I, Jane Cole, formerly Gabriel Lucian, learned where babies came from.

"No," I said when she had finished. "No, he hasn't."

She looked a little surprised, but nodded.

"Good, then he respects your integrity. He must really love you."

"Of course he does," I said. "And I love him."

When my hair was finished, we set about getting me into my clothing. In a corset, hoop skirt and yards and yards of material, I felt altogether uncomfortable, but when we were done, I didn't know myself. My dress was a dark plum color with a wide, sloping neck that probably showed more than was necessary, but it set off my dark hair, eyes, and ruddy flesh very well. A necklace of dark purple stones went around my neck, and a matching bracelet at my wrist as well. A gold cuff went on my other wrist, and the earrings that clipped to my ears because they were not pierced were gold as well.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but breathe, "I don't look like myself. To be able to afford such finery…"

Everything I have just described was given to me by the Queen, seeing as how I could not afford such nice clothing myself.

"You look beautiful," said Mrs. Jekyll behind me, putting her hands on my shoulders. "When Wagner sees you, he'll fall in love with you all over again."

I still felt rather stuffy, but as I continued to admire myself, I found I actually looked very pretty, and the idea of making Kurt fall head over heels in love with me again was starting to have some appeal.

A maid poked her head into the room to tell us that it was time for the ceremony to begin, and I turned to face the vampiress, taking her hands in mine.

"Thank you for all your help, Mrs. Har…I mean, Mrs. Jekyll. You've turned a wild animal into a respectable young lady."

She smiled, one of her rare, kind smiles, and squeezed my hands.

"Call me Mina. And the pleasure is all mine. You've come so far, little Ghost Wolf, and you're going to go even farther. I'm so proud of you. Now come. The men await."

My heart suddenly fluttering nervously in my throat, I followed her and the maid out of the dressing room, down the halls and finally to a great staircase where we were to meet before we would be presented to Her Majesty.

At the bottom of the staircase stood Van Helsing, Karl, Skinner, Dr. Jekyll and Kurt, whose yellow eyes widened as they fell on me. I wished I could say the same for him, but I had to smother a giggle when I saw him. I wasn't used to seeing him all dressed up, with his black hair slicked back into a ponytail and decked out in a fancy ceremonial suit and gloves. He looked a little silly, but definitely handsome nonetheless. After all, he was still my Kurt, just a little cleaned up.

But he, on the other hand, looked absolutely smitten. As I came down the stairs to join them, reaching out for his hands, he just stared at me, not moving, not blinking, just staring. I was beginning to worry that he might have forgotten to breathe when I saw his chest expand. He blinked, and took my hands in his at last, leaning into me for what I thought would be a kiss, but instead he whispered against the skin of my jawbone, "You are so beautiful."

Then he kissed me. I blushed and said, "Thank you. You look quite dashing yourself." I was trying to ignore the pleasant shivers that were rolling up and down my spine. Combined with the butterflies in my stomach and my heart pounding in my chest, I wasn't feeling at all together. Still, Kurt took my hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow as we moved to take our places for when we would enter the hall where this party was supposed to take place. I was nervous, and kept swallowing and switching my weight from one foot to the other. Kurt noticed my uneasiness, and patted my hand.

"Everything will be all right," he whispered, thought I could see in his eyes he was just as nervous as I was. "I promise."

The doors opened, and we entered the hall: Van Helsing and Karl in the front, Dr. and Mrs. Jekyll, Kurt and myself, and Skinner bringing up the rear. We were flanked on both sides by tables, at which sat a bunch of very important-looking people. I don't think I'll ever know who they were: probably officials and representatives from countries around the world. We walked straight up to the back of the room (or maybe it should be considered the front) where the Queen sat on her throne, bowed, and stood up on a platform behind her, facing the rest of the room. From here, we would receive a medal of some sort, and the checks for the reward money. When we all had taken our places, the Queen rose and held her arms out to the massive crowd before her.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome! Tonight, we are gathered together to honor the deeds of a very special group of people."

She droned on and on about us, describing our heroic adventures and tragic losses, mourning the deaths of Capt. Nemo and Allan Quatermain. Dorian Gray, as could be expected, was not mentioned, but neither was Princess Anna. I watched Van Helsing's eyes as she went through the casualties, and saw them harden when Anna's name was not mentioned. I felt a little swell of pity for him. Since Anna's death, through they had only known each other for a few weeks, he had never been quite the same, or so Karl had told me when we were reunited with the League the previous evening. He still kept his job of course, but he spoke less, joked with his little monk friend less, and generally seemed less enthusiastic about life.

Of course, I couldn't imagine the stoic assassin laughing or joking about _anything_, but I still didn't know him very well, and I was sure there were sides to him that I would never see.

Finally, when she was finished talking, she called out our names and personally pinned the medal on our clothes, starting with Van Helsing on the one side and working her way over to Capt. Skinner on the other. She also handed us our checks, and warned us to keep them quite safe until we could get them to a bank. Kurt held onto both his and mine, safely tucked into a secret pocket on the inside of his coat. Then, with that done, there was a final round of applause, and we left the platform to sit down at a table reserved only for us.

Dinner passed me in a blur. I don't remember what I ate; I wasn't paying attention. We all laughed and talked as we ate, the atmosphere hardly the formally strained ones that I remembered. Together, and without Her Majesty's knowledge, we held a series of private toasts, with Capt. Skinner acknowledging Capt. Nemo, Dr. Jekyll: Quatermain, and finally, remembering the look in Van Helsing's eyes during the Queen's speech, I rose and recognized Princess Anna Valerios. We drank to her spirit, now in Heaven with the rest of her family. We also toasted Velkan, Anna's brother, an unwilling victim in this whole thing, and Frankenstein as well, wishing him luck wherever he was.

Shortly after he had finished eating, Kurt excused himself and disappeared off to talk to some men sitting at a table a little ways away. And it was only minutes after that when the Queen announced it was time for the dancing to begin.

"Dancing?" I exclaimed to Dr. Jekyll. "I didn't know there was going to be dancing!"

"Of course!" he replied joyfully as he got up from his seat. "That's what they do at ceremonies such as these!" He inclined his head slightly to his wife. "My lady?"

She let out a giggle like a schoolgirl and accepted his hand. I looked out over the floor, and I turned my eyes back to Kurt, but he had no intention of getting up. He was still deep in conversation with the men at the other table, and I felt somewhat deflated. One moment, he couldn't take his eyes off me, the next, he wouldn't even look at me. I felt disappointed and abandoned, facing the first dance without a partner.

_Oh well,_ I huffed, slouching a bit and crossing my arms under my breasts. _I've no idea how to dance anyway. I'd probably make a total idiot of myself._

"Begging your pardon, Ms. Cole," said a voice. "But since your man seems to be too _blue_ to dance, may I have the honor?"

I looked up, and standing before me was none other than Capt. Skinner, his hand extended towards me. In Kurt's absence, he had stepped up, just so I wouldn't have to sit out of the first dance, alone.

_Good ol' Skinner,_ I thought, and out loud, I said, "You may," and grabbed his hand as he pulled me up. As we headed over to the floor, I confessed I had never been dancing before, and that I would probably end up on his toes for the majority of the time.

"It's all right," he said gently, patting my hand. "I'll teach you the steps. When the music starts, you bow to your partners."

It turned out to be a lot more fun than I had originally anticipated. All those years of being the Ghost Wolf had given me a certain grace and lightness of foot, and once I learned the steps, I practically flew through them as though I'd been doing them since I was a little girl. After the first dance was over, seeing Kurt was still in conversation, I agreed to dance the second with Skinner as well. After than one, though, I had to sit out and take a breather.

I didn't sit out long. I danced the fourth with someone I didn't know: a young Irishman I guess, who was really trying to impress me, but I wasn't paying attention. My thoughts were on my Kurt, and how he could be so engaged when I was out here, dancing with other men. Why did what those men have to say mean more to him than me?

Okay, so I was being a little selfish, but every girl deserves a dance with the man she loves, right?

Irish-boy either didn't notice my indifference or he was trying to get past it, because he followed me back to my seat, talking about whatever it was he had been talking about. Fortunately, I didn't have to endure it long, because I was rescued by Jekyll. He had been talking with his wife and Skinner when he looked up and noticed my position, whisking me out onto the floor again.

This dance was incredibly hard and fast, and I needed all my energy and concentration to get the steps right, but I found myself laughing at the same time. For all his shyness and quiet demeanor, Jekyll was a very good dancer, and great help as I stumbled through the complicated moves and routines. His blue eyes seemed less tortured, now that his vampiress was in his life, but I knew that, deep down inside, he was still battling the beast within him. If you didn't know us intimately, you would see a happy, contented man, his red head bouncing up and down as he coached the young girl in front of him in the steps of the dance, her flower of womanhood ripe and in bloom, and you would never know that we hid vicious, killer alter egos you would have to see to believe.

We applauded the musicians when the dance was over, then fled happily back to our table for a chance to sit down and wet our parched throats. Exhilarated, I collapsed into my chair, my face flushed bright pink and strands of my hair were falling out of place. I drank some wine (they had nothing else), and took a moment to catch my breath, then my mood suddenly vanished when Irish-boy appeared in front of me. Jeez, this guy was relentless!

"May I have this da…?" he started to say, but a hand gripped his shoulder and spun him around, cutting him off. Standing behind him was Kurt, a very annoyed look in his yellow eyes.

"Excuse me," he said to Irish-boy, then bowed to me, holding out his hand. "Jane?"

My heart pounded in my ears, my breathlessness gone as I put my hand in his, and we both rose as one to stand upright. He led me, dazed, as if in a dream, out onto the floor, where we bowed to each other as the music started. He put my hand on his arm, put it around my waist, and drew me to him, clasping my other hand tightly in his. The slow, haunting melody played solely on the violin was beautiful, and it gave me goosebumps, but so did the look in Kurt's eyes as we began to move. I swear I had no control over my feet as they traced out the steps of their own accord, so drawn was I by his eyes. In them was a look I had never seen before; dark and intense and mysterious. It was so very unlike him, so unlike the Kurt I fell in love with, yet it intrigued me as well. It was…possessive. _You're mine,_ they seemed to say, before he slowly spun me around until we were facing the same direction. He placed soft kisses on the back of my neck and almost-bare shoulders, and a wave of shivers rolled down my spine again. Oh, the things he could do to me! Me, whom everyone thought was a cold, heartless monster. There is only one way I can describe the warm, delicious feeling that flooded through my body as his hand slid across my waist and his breath stirred the tendrils of hair that were falling out of the bun at the back of my head. It made me think of melted chocolate. My first experience with chocolate had been that evening, and their sweet goodness was the only thing I could think of that even came close to the feelings that were running through me out there on the dance floor with the man I thought I loved, and I thought he loved me. I just wished he would stop playing with my heart and either marry me, or leave me alone.

I've always been a down-to-Earth kind of girl. I know exactly what I want, and it's either one way or the other: all or nothing.

I probably should have told him what was on my mind, but my lips wouldn't move. I couldn't speak, I only stared dumbly back at him as he continued to lead me through until the violin sounded the last chord, and then we bowed to each other again.

He took me by the hand and took me back to my seat, looking from me to his feet, the possessive (what was the word Mina had mentioned?) _seductive_ look gone from his eyes. Suddenly he was himself again, shy and nervous, back to the kind, gentle Kurt that I knew. He kissed me on the cheek and set me down, but he didn't go anywhere, even when Irish-boy stepped up and asked me to dance yet again. He rolled his yellow eyes and bared his sharp teeth, and I saw his tail swish irritably behind him. I blushed a little. It was actually very nice to be fought over. But Kurt looked like he had something important to say, and after the way he had been ignoring me all night, I was all ears.

"Excuse me sir," I said roughly, standing up to face Irish-boy. "Do you mind? I'm trying to have a conversation here."

He looked over, saw Kurt standing next to him, and realization dawned on his face.

"Oh, sorry there, laddie," he said nonchalantly. "I'll just leave you to it, then."

He vanished, and I sat back down.

"So," I said. "Have you come to apologize for the way you've been treating me all night?"

"I…yes, I suppose I should apologize for my behavior."

I nodded. I mean, it wasn't like I was asking for his complete, undivided attention, but I certainly didn't want to drop out of his life forever, either.

"The reason I have been avoiding you is this." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small, gold ring. The moment the light from the lamps flashed over it, my heart did a backflip and stopped. Was he…could it be true? Had all my prayers been answered?

"I have been trying to work up the courage to ask you to marry me, but I fear I have not done well."

He knelt down on one knee before me, taking my hand in his and sliding the ring onto my finger.

"I know I am not…normal, nor will I ever be," he began. "But you were able to look past that and see what was inside instead of out. If you will take me, then I am yours. What I am offering you is a life of comfort and security, and if you want it, then it is all yours."

I didn't know what to say. What _did_ you say in a situation like this? Was a simple "yes" appropriate? Or was a pretty, flowery speech required as well? I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched by everyone in the room, though I could see out of the corners of my eyes that most everyone in the room was either dancing or talking amongst themselves. However, my back was to the rest of the League, so I couldn't see if they were staring at me or not.

I couldn't believe it. The moment I had dreamed about for so long was finally here, and I was freezing up. Suddenly, my brain went blank. All I could see was the sparkle of the stone on the ring, and I felt so light-headed I thought I would faint. I was actually afraid I would, then all of a sudden, without thinking, I blurted out, "Yes!" in an excited squeal. I hadn't even realized what I'd said until I heard a cheer behind me, and when I turned around, I found that, indeed, Van Helsing, Karl, Skinner, and Dr. and Mrs. Jekyll were watching us, applauding my response. My face grew hot, and I figured I must have been as red as a beet, but I didn't care. I was going to be a bride.

Kurt swept me off my feet and swung me around, making me cry out even more, and when he set me down again, it was only a fraction of a second before his lips were on mine in a passionate kiss that took my breath away. How one vessel can contain so much emotion, I'll never know, but the fact that neither of us exploded right then and there will forever be a mystery to me.

He pulled away and released me, and I marveled at the ring on my finger, especially the stone. It was a golden orange color, but it flashed yellow and pink as well, the colors of a sunset.

"It's called a sunstone," said Kurt, sitting down next to me. "It comes from the northwestern shores of America." He smiled, and looked down at his knees, his long eyelashes brushing his cheeks. "A diamond seemed too plain and common for your beauty."

I blushed furiously. Silently, I dared someone to tell me that I was not the luckiest ex-werewolf in the world.

"It's a beautiful ring," I said. "Where on Earth did you get it?"

"'E got a little help," said a voice, and we looked up to see Capt. Skinner. When I turned back to Kurt in confusion, he explained, "While on board his ship, I informed the Captain of my intentions, and he offered to assist me. I am afraid that was why we did not include you in our conversation. We could not spoil the surprise."

"So _that's_ what you two were so interested in!" I said brightly, remembering they way they had snubbed me at breakfast that day.

"Yep," said Skinner. "When this lovely knight in shining armor informed me of his plans to wed his lady, but had no money for a ring, I had to step in. No sense in lettin' a lack of funds destroy true love. On my travels, I've collected all manner of treasure and finery. I just…sorta let him take his pick."

"Naturally, I refused at first. I wanted to wait until I had collected the reward money so I could buy a ring myself, but Capt. Skinner would not hear of it. And when I saw that ring, all I could do was imagine it on your hand, just like it is now, and it was settled. Now, here we are, and you have just made me the happiest man on Earth." He kissed me again. "I still cannot believe someone so beautiful, who deserves so much more, would be content with someone like me."

"Now now, don't dumb yourself down, mate," Skinner chimed in.

"He's right," I said. "For everything you've done, it is I who can't believe you love me. You're so gentle and kind; it is I who doesn't deserve you. I mean, I lived a life stained with innocent blood, and you still fell in love with me. You should have driven a stake through my heart in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost."

He gasped, and clutched my arm.

"I could never do that! What greater cruelty is there than taking a life that has hardly begun?"

"Letting it continue in the damned state it's in," said Van Helsing coldly. Boy, that guy really knew how to sour a mood, didn't he?

For a moment, none of us spoke. We didn't have an answer to his statement. Finally, Kurt turned away from him, and back to me.

"I knew you had a heart to love, deep inside. You just needed someone to set it free."

"Well, I think I've found him," I said, and he covered my hand in his. We kissed yet again, then Mina and her husband came rushing up to offer their congratulations.

* * *

'Bout frickin' time, huh? Hope I made everybody cry! ;) 

To anyone who may have questions: yes, sunstones do exist. I've seen them here where I go to school, and they're absolutely beautiful. I think any kind of precious stone works much better than a diamond, and they're a lot prettier too.


	15. Epilogue

**Before we start, I want to thank everyone for reading, and a special thanks goes out to those who reviewed. Your opinions really mean a lot to me, and I'm infinitely glad I created something people liked. I put a lot of work into this, and it owns a piece of my heart and soul. I'm glad it wasn't all in vain.**

**An author's note from the last chapter: I have _nothing_ against Irish people! The annoying guy needed a nationality, and Irish was just the first thing that popped into my head. And no, I'm not dissing my own race either. A lot of people think I'm Irish because of my red hair, but I'm actually French. Random fact of the day.**

**So this is the very last chapter of Gabriel/Jane's story! (sniff) So sad it's over! It's a little lemony, but I think you guys can handle it. A special thanks to Elizabeth von Schweitzer, whose good looks and charming personality provided the inspiration for Kitty Wagner. Love ya, girl!**

**Disclaimer: You know by now what I own and what I don't.**

Six months later, in a small church in New York City far away from prying human eyes, we were married. It wasn't a very large ceremony: with only a few of the League members and a preacher in attendance. It took a little coaxing to convince the preacher not to run screaming from Kurt's appearance, but still, he was awfully nervous and shaky, and kept looking from his book to Kurt. It was pretty annoying, but it was the best we could do.

Again, it wasn't a huge, flashy to-do. I had a white dress, but it wasn't a very fancy one, though Mina insisted I have a veil.

"Nothing is more romantic in a wedding than having your new husband lift a veil from your face for a kiss," she told me earlier as she helped me get ready. "Oh Jane, you look so beautiful! Just like a princess!"

I may have looked like a princess, but I sure as heck didn't feel like one. I was horribly nervous, and could see my hands trembling when I held them up to my face. I had been waiting for this day for months. Why was I suddenly so scared and jittery?

Mina noticed, and she smiled.

"You're just excited," she said kindly, covering my hands with hers. Her skin was cool against mine, though I was wearing thin, lacy gloves. "Don't worry; you'll be fine."

I felt such a rush of gratitude to the vampiress that I then did something I had never done before. I threw my arms around her waist and pulled her to me, burying my head in her breasts. She laughed and hugged me back, not at all offended by my behavior. In fact, I dare say she was pleased.

"You know, Jane," she said when I pulled away. "I never got a chance to become a mother and have children. But, in all the time I've known you, you've become like a daughter to me, giving me the joy I never had a chance to experience. I feel as giddy as any mother should on her daughter's wedding. I'm so proud of you!" she said and hugged me again. I hugged back, and at that moment, Jekyll stuck his head into the room. Because I didn't have a father, he had volunteered to be the one to walk me down the aisle. It only seemed right, now that Mina was my adopted mother.

"Ready?" he asked, and I bobbed my head. Ready as I'd ever be. Ready to close out yet another chapter in my life and move on to a new one.

* * *

Our honeymoon, if you'd like to call it that, was back to Kurt's beloved Germany, and to the abandoned Catholic church where he'd lived the five years before we recruited him. Capt. Skinner was kind enough to give us transportation, both there and back, and the rest of the League went with us, the rest of them wanting to see Berlin as much as we did. We spent our days together, wandering around and seeing the sights, Kurt hiding under a wide-brimmed hat, but when the nights came, they went back to the hotel where they were staying, while Kurt and I returned to the church, finally free to be alone together.

The first night we were there, we were both very nervous. When we arrived, we had been laughing about something, then he picked me up and carried me into a back room or something. There was a mattress with several blankets on it that I was sure had been his bed when he lived here, and he laid me very gently down on it. He took his jacket off, and suddenly, I knew what was coming. He looked slightly uncomfortable, but we were, after all, husband and wife.

"I've never done this before," he confessed as his hands went for the buttons on my dress, and I was greatly comforted in that knowledge. Not that I doubted his integrity, nor his self control, but it was nice to know that I wouldn't be having this experience alone.

It was painful, more painful than I would have ever imagined possible. I had felt worse, but it still took my breath away, mostly because I hadn't been expecting it. I mean, Mina had warned me that there would be pain, so I wasn't entirely unprepared, but I wasn't expecting the intensity of it all. He was as gentle as he could be, whispering "Gabriel, Gabriel," over and over again, as though calling me by my pet name would somehow soothe the pain, but it still didn't stop my eyes from watering.

"I'm very glad I had Mrs. Jekyll to tell me about this beforehand," I said afterwards, as we lay side by side with the blankets tucked around us. "Otherwise, I would've had no idea what to expect."

"Mrs. Jekyll told you?" he said, looking surprised, and I nodded.

"I had no knowledge of lovemaking prior to the night of the ceremony six months ago." I told him about the conversation Mina and I had had in the dressing room, the questions she had asked, and how that had led to the lecture she had given me.

"So you are a virgin, then," he said when I had finished.

"Well," I replied with a laugh. "I _was_; I'm not anymore."

"Of course. That is what I meant. Still, you knew nothing? I find that very strange."

I didn't see how.

"I grew up in an all-girl's orphanage, then I spent the next five years on the streets without any human contact save for food."

"Ah yes. When you put it that way…I was around it all the time with the gypsies."

"You…?"

He caught the uneasy look in my eyes, and laughed.

"No, I never participated in it myself; I was much too young. As I said, you were my first, but I knew all about it from a very young age. It was common to walk into a tent or a wagon and find…well, this is not the first time I was exposed."

He laughed softly again, and brushed a lock of hair away from my face. I took a moment to silently thank God that he had not let his curiosity get the better of him.

"I'm glad we waited," I told him.

"I was tempted otherwise," he admitted, placing his hand on the side of my face and stroking my cheek with his thumb. I closed my eyes at his touch and let his low voice wash over me. "Greatly tempted. Lying with you all those nights…you were asleep, so you never knew, and I could not bring myself to tell you. You see, I had intended all along to make you my bride, and sometimes I wondered, would it be so wrong? We were already living together, and we were already sleeping in the same bed together. We were in love: the only thing that stood in our way was that we were not married, though I was planning to fix that, once we had enough money. It seemed all right, but I knew I could not. I did not want to frighten you in case it was not what you wanted. I wanted your full consent first, and I wanted to make you my wife before I…took you."

"Well, here I am," I said, pulling him to me for a kiss. "Thank you for waiting. You probably would really have scared me if you hadn't."

I felt so weak and vulnerable saying that, but it was true.

"You are welcome. But it was so hard, knowing that you were just on the other side of the bed, and all I had to do was roll over. I am sure that if you had given one sign, or made one move, I would not have been able to resist you." He pulled me into his arms. "You know I can't refuse you anything."

"Now you don't have to."

"I love you so much, Jane. You know that, right?"

"Yeah."

I did know. I had a sparkling ring on my hand to prove it. He also had a gold band on his, (another little gift from Capt. Skinner). Nothing as fancy or as pretty as the one I had, but it was still there nonetheless. Just a little something to tell the world that he was mine now, and would remain so until the day we died.

He trailed kisses down my neck and onto my shoulder. I let out a soft giggle.

"I would do anything for you."

"Mm-hmm, I know."

"And what is it you desire, my angel?"

Did he really have to ask?

"You," I said simply.

The rest of our nights continued in this fashion, and by the time we left Berlin and got back on the _Nautilus_, I knew I was with child.

* * *

There was a little town in upstate New York that was in need of a preacher. It was one of the few churches left in the U.S. that was still Catholic, and Kurt happily took the job.

We arrived on a cloudy day in early October, when the leaves were turning and a distinct fall chill was in the air. I was _very_ pregnant by that time, my huge belly a constant weight I had to lug around. At this point, I was wishing I would just have the kid and get it over with, though Kurt and I were very excited on becoming parents, Kurt especially. He would sit in bed in the early morning hours, when the sun was just coming up over the horizon and I was drifting in between sleep and wakefulness, with his hands on my belly and talk in a low voice to the small life that was growing inside me. I never knew what he said to our little one. Not that I didn't share his enthusiasm, but I was much less excited than he was. He, after all, was not the one pregnant, and therefore wasn't moody, cranky, and snappy like I was. There was a part of me that hated being with child, because it made me absolutely miserable, especially when I was trying to sleep and I would get a very rude awakening when the baby decided it would be fun to kick Mommy in the spleen. I never paid attention to what my husband said to his child, and I was barely conscious anyway.

We figured that, being small town people, it was probably going to take a lot of work to convince the people that Kurt really was a man of God and _not_ a monster. Kurt mentioned the fact that he had a pretty girl for a wife and that was a great bonus, not to mention she was expecting his child. Those were two factors that worked greatly in his favor, but we were not sure if they would be enough to completely convince them. Nevertheless, we had to start somewhere, and we decided it was probably better if they saw me first, and then Kurt. So, when we made our first appearance to the townspeople, I appeared first, then Kurt followed behind me.

As we had expected, there was a chorus of gasps and a couple of very small children began to cry. At first, people just stared at us, then two kids, probably around seven or so, came up to me. They both had curly blond hair and green eyes, and I guessed they were brother and sister, but not twins. I knelt down so I could speak to them more easily.

"Is that a baby in your tummy?" said the little boy, and I smiled.

"That's right," I said, surprised at how gentle my voice came out.

"So, you're gonna be a mommy now," said the little girl, and I nodded.

"Yes I am."

The kids looked back at their mother, a woman with a basket on one arm and another baby in the other.

"Can we, Mommy?" asked the little girl.

"Can we please?" echoed her brother, and the woman sighed. She looked tired.

"If the lady doesn't mind," she said wearily. She looked at me. "Do you?"

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be minding, but I shook my head anyway.

"No, I don't mind," I said, and the little kids cheered, then pressed their ears to my belly. I was a bit caught off guard, but I laughed. They really were darling.

"I can hear its heartbeat!" cried the little girl.

"I felt it move!" cried the boy. They held for a minute or so longer, then scampered back to their mother. I rose to my feet again. The woman gestured to my stomach.

"Is it your first?"

I nodded. She looked between me and Kurt, and he put his arms around me.

"And are you two…?"

We both nodded this time.

Though the townspeople were still a little put off by Kurt's appearance, the sight of my pregnant bump, as well as my interactions with those two children had definitely warmed them to him, probably past the point of wanting to attack with torches and pitchforks. They probably figured that, if such a pretty girl had agreed to wed him and then bear his child, then he couldn't be so much of a monster. Maybe he was more human than he appeared. That, and he was also a preacher, which always helped. And, when our child was born one month later, it was one more step.

Our firstborn was a son: Matthew Kurt Wagner. He had his father's black hair, yellow eyes, and later, sharp teeth, but his skin was the same color as mine. Contrary to popular belief that most women die in childbirth, I survived, and a year later, we had our second, a girl, whom we named Katherine Devon Wagner. She had my thick brown hair and ruddy skin, but her eyes were strangely a hazel green. She was definitely the boldest of her siblings, and always the ringleader whenever they pulled a prank. Our third was also a girl, Eleanor Rebecca, three years after Kitty, and she looked the most like her father, with black hair, blue skin, sharp teeth, and even a tail of her own, which we insisted she keep under her dress. But she had my brown eyes, deep wells of knowledge that she collected from all the books she read, so much so that she had to get glasses by the time she was ten years old. And lastly, two years later, our fourth, a son, with my brown hair and the bluest eyes I had ever seen, moreso that Dr. Jekyll. At his birth, after the midwife had gotten him all dried off and put him into our arms, we only had one quiet moment together before Matt, Kitty and Ellie burst through the door, the nurses unable to hold onto them any longer. In that moment, I asked Kurt what he wanted to name the child, and he smiled, putting his arms around us.

"Gabriel Lucian," he said, managing to grab one quick kiss before the other three came bounding in to see their new brother.

And so it was. After a mindblowing adventure with narrow escapes and brushes with death, Kurt and I retired to a private life devoted to each other, our children, and to God. We both lived very long, enough to see our children grow up and raise families of their own, though Ellie never married. She preferred a quiet life alone with her books, and would eventually become a writer. So, naturally it was she who stumbled upon my journal one day in the attic while looking for something new to read, the old one that detailed the events of our adventure to which I have already described to you, my dear reader. Though it was all loose leaf paper and written in my very sloppy penmanship, she devoured it as readily as she devoured everything else she read, and when she was finished, she confronted me about it. After a discussion with Kurt, we decided it would be best if we told our children where we'd come from, how we'd met, and everything that had happened to us since. So we gathered the kids, all grown up now, together, and between the two of us, we told them everything: our backstories, our origins, all of the things we had done, and then the adventure that had led us to Transylvania, where we had met. We left nothing out. A lot of the things we had done were not right, but we figured it was better to tell them the truth than let them live their lives in a lie. No matter what they thought of us, honesty is one of the most important things that holds a family together.

In the end, they didn't think any less of us, as we had originally predicted. They were a little shocked to know that their mother, the woman who had carried them, gave birth to them, and raised them, had once been able to change her shape at will and prowl the rooftops of New York City, a place they had never been, searching for fresh blood. It was hard for them to grasp the idea that she had killed hundreds of people to slake her own thirst; that their father, so gentle that he could hardly raise his hand to them in punishment, had ripped through his tormentor's throat in an attempt to escape a life of cruelty and abuse. Even harder was to accept the fact that vampires and werewolves, creatures they had been told all their lives (by their schoolteachers mostly) weren't real, did in fact exist. They knew that non-human creatures existed (look at their father!), but of bloodthirsty monsters? Not at all. However, they learned that they were out there, hiding in the ranks of the humans, no longer as big a threat as they had been, but still there nonetheless.

And one of them happened to be the woman they called Aunt Mina.

Still, they were good children, and they had been raised well. They didn't distrust the woman I had deemed their godmother any more than they did their own parents. They were a little put off by everything they had learned, but they were smart enough to know that what had happened had happened, and that the people who had killed were the very same people who had raised them, loved them, and given them so much. The monsters we had been were not the parents we were now, and they knew this. They agreed to keep the secret and not tell anyone in the little village in which we lived, for to know the secrets of our past would surely undermine the feeble trust we had established between ourselves and the townspeople. Even with Kurt's status as the town preacher, we were not exactly high on everyone's favorites list, and not everyone included us in their social circle. There were some, but if the town had anyone who could be considered outcasts, we would be the ones.

We continued to receive visits from Skinner and Mrs. And Dr. Jekyll, who looked older every time we saw him, so I concluded that Mina had decided not to turn him into a vampire. Van Helsing and Karl we never saw again, not after the night of the ceremony. Skinner continued to tour the world as Captain of the _Nautilus_, and would always bring our children presents and regale them for hours with stories about his adventures. Kurt and I would smile as we watched them, remembering when he had done the exact same thing to us when he'd come to pick us up to take us to London. The kids loved him, and called him "Uncle Skinner," for every time they saw him, it was sure to be an adventure.

Mina aided her husband in his search for a "cure" to Hyde, her knowledge of chemistry proving a valuable asset to his research. Unfortunately, they never found what they were looking for, and eventually, the stress and the strain was too much for the timid doctor to handle, and he died of heart failure at sixty-one years old.

Our neighbors often talked behind our backs about the strange company we entertained, but they'll never understand. They don't know our story; it's far too complicated and upsetting for their simple minds. But the memories we shared and the friendships we made were everlasting, or at least, for as long as we lived, for one of us would go on living, long after the rest of us were dead. But, she told me when I brought it up, that she would hold these times very dear to her heart, for we: her husband and myself, Kurt, Skinner, and her god-children, had given her a window of happiness in all of eternity, and it's times like this that keep us holding on. And, I would find as I grew older and watched our children grow up, that there was some truth to her words. You hold on to the good things you have, the wonderful memories you make, because they are the things that remind you that no matter how dark or evil or cruel the world around you becomes, there is always the hope of a brighter future and a better tomorrow. You can never really destroy evil. There are shadows even in the presence of light, as I would find on sleepless nights when I would again feel the urge to run, naked and free over the rooftops, to abide by my own rules and decide my own fate. It seems that, though I no longer change form or crave human blood, the wolf in me never fully dies. Sometimes, I want to leave my bed and my husband behind and run over the hills, and howl at the full moon. But, on nights like these, I roll over, away from the window, and let the sound of Kurt's breathing soothe me to sleep. My place is here now, and will be forevermore, until I am at last called up to the Gates of Heaven.

**Yah okay, maybe you need special training to become a priest, but for the sake of the story, let's just ignore that fact, shall we?**

**Sorry I may have sounded a little preachy there at the end, but if you don't get anything else from the story, at least get this. Those little life lessons I've put in there are all philosophies drawn from personal experiences. I've been down both roads people, and I can say that optimism is much better than pessimism. You don't have to agree with me, but I can tell you that life is no fun when you're constantly to kill yourself. **

**Thanks again for sticking by me and reading my stuff everyone! It's been great! I'm going to post some author's notes next week, so if you have any questions, comments, queries, quibbles or complaints that you would like me to address, please post them in a review and I'll get to them. I don't recommend PMing me, because I've disabled that function, so just review plz. Don't be shy; I won't laugh at you.**

**So, with that out of the way, what'd you guys think?**


	16. Author's Notes

Believe it or not, the inspiration for this story came from a pair of pajamas I owned when I was about sixteen. They actually weren't pajamas, just some things I wore to bed when my parents weren't there to see them. They consisted of an old, beat up, green plaid shirt with splatters of orange paint on the sleeve that I'd stolen from the church art closet because I fell in love with it, and a pair of navy blue yoga style pants: stretchy, spandexy and very comfortable, that I'd taken a pair of scissors to and slashed up so much I looked like an anime chick fresh out of a battle. Don't ask my why I did this to my clothing; I was weird back then. I also was emo and cut myself. _(rolls eyes)_ Pathetic. Anyway, when I put these clothes on, I looked like a classic street beggar, minus the fact that I had just gotten out of the shower and was therefore clean. I used to hop up on my bathroom counter and snarl at myself in the mirror, and the beginnings of Gabriel Lucian began to emerge. Originally, I think the character's name was Cassandra, and I think I gave her a last name too, but I'll be derned if I can remember what it was. From there, a story began to unfold. At first, it followed more along the storyline of LXG, and all I had written down were a couple of scenes between Cassandra and Kurt, the primary love interest. Then I left it alone and forgot all about it, partially because I'd come up with other story ideas, and partially because I was so anti-fanfiction back then. Also, in the process of going through about three computers over the next year or so, it got lost in the transfer of files from one machine to the other.

Then, in the spring of my junior year in high school, I finished what I called my masterpiece, though looking at it now, I realize it still needs a lot of work. So I'm going to pull an Anne Rice and tuck it away for a couple of years, then bring it out again and turn it into an amazing novel (I hope). It was a short story entitled _Home Sweet Home_, and it was the longest thing I had ever written, at the time anyway. I had been working on it pretty much nonstop for six months, and it had been the only story on my mind for the entire time, so you can imagine that when it was finished, I felt so empty inside because now I didn't have anything to write about. I had put so much into this story; it was a part of me as much as I was of it, so much that I couldn't write for the next four months or so. I picked up a few scribbles once in a while, but nothing held the same power that this story had.

It was a pretty upsetting four months. As a writer, that's what I do in my spare time, so to be unable to write sucks. I hate it. I'm not pretty when I've got writer's block, but I've never had it this bad. I was restless and agitated, I ate out of habit, not out of hunger, and I would pace my room, talking to myself. About what, I don't remember, but it doesn't matter. The point is, for almost the entire summer, I was bored out of my mind because I had nothing to write about.

Finally, towards the middle of August, shortly after I had returned from summer camp, I picked up the pen again. I don't really recall what it was that made me want to start writing _The Ghost Wolf_ to begin with. Maybe it was a last resort, because I had nothing else to write about. Maybe it was because I had received a new, special notebook from my mom and a bottle of pretty blue ink that my dad had in his desk drawer, and I was anxious to try them out. Again, I'm not really sure what it was. All I know is that I had sort of been thinking about the fanfiction I had once created melding LXG, X-Men and Van Helsing together, and I thought, _Why the Hell not?_ I remember it was about eleven o'clock at night. I filled up my favorite pen: a fountain pen I had gotten for Christmas from my dad with my name inscribed on the side, with the pretty blue ink, sat on my bed, opened my special notebook up to a fresh page, and began to tell the tale of Gabriel Lucian: The Ghost Wolf.

From there, it just took off. I had scribbled out four pages in those first two hours, which is saying something, because the pages in that notebook are big with small lines. My muse was back, and I could write again. I changed my main character's name because I couldn't remember what it had been originally, and I decided to place the plot more along that of Van Helsing, because it seemed more logical, though I included scenes from the LXG and X-2 movies as well. She originally was a werewolf from London, but when I decided that I didn't want to include Sawyer in the mix, I realized that they needed an American, so I put her in New York City. Besides, the attitude I'd given her was way too bad-ass to be British and there were already too many people from England anyway. Pretty much everyone in the League is British, minus Gabriel: who's from America, Kurt: who's from Germany, Nemo: who's from India, and Van Helsing and Karl, who are from Italy. Quatermain and Jekyll count, because they were both originally from the Empire before Quatermain left for Africa and Jekyll was exiled to Paris. But Skinner, Mina, and Gray are all from London, and too many scourges in one place just doesn't work, so she was a New Yorker.

There were a few changes I made regarding the other characters. Obviously, I threw Sawyer out of the mix, because he bugged the crap out of me in the LXG movie, and shacked Mina up with Jekyll instead. From what I've seen, Karl's name is spelled with a "c" and not a "k", but I didn't know that when I started writing it, and by the time I figured it out, not only was it too late to change it, but I didn't really feel like changing it. I'm just like that. And I made Kurt's hair longer, because I think he'd look really cool with long hair, and changed the story of his past around, because I'm pretty sure that what I've got _isn't_ his real story, but it fitted mine, and gave him another reason to be able to relate to Gabriel. I also sort of implied that he has five fingers on each hand instead of three, but I never really mentioned that, so I suppose it doesn't matter, and I'm not really sure of his actual age, but he looks fairly young in the movie, so I made him only a couple years older than Gabriel.

There was one other change I had to make as well, and that had to do with names. I couldn't have two Gabriels in the story, because only one of them would be a werewolf, and end up killing Dracula. Jane was already a werewolf, so she won out, and I totally scrapped the idea of Van Helsing becoming bitten. Plus, in the original Bram Stoker novel, Van Helsing's first name was Abraham, so I used that as his name in the story.

I suppose that's a little selfish of me, making my OC the hero, but had this been an original story, the main character is usually the one who kills the bad guy, so it makes sense.

Over the next year, _The Ghost Wolf,_ then called _The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen_ because I couldn't think of a better title, became my next project. Almost every day I worked on it, sometimes scratching out one or two words, other times seven or eight pages, depending on where I was in the story, what kind of mood I was in, and how tired I was. It was the only thing that was buzzing around in my head, so I my original plan was to just write it down and get it out of my head so original stories could flourish. I intended this to be my first and only fanfiction I would ever write, and I certainly didn't plan on sharing it on this website.

Not.

Needless to say, when my boyfriend at the time introduced me to the Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles, all those plans fell by the wayside. But that's a whole other story that I'm not going to go into here.

Here's where I take a moment to brag about my best friend and fellow writer, Elizabeth von Schweitzer. Lizzy, if you're reading this, you know it's true. The two of us took from the same violin teacher, found ourselves going to the same high school, and wound up in the same orchestra our freshman year. There, we used to sit in the back of the class and goof off, make fun of the teacher, write, draw, and even eat our lunches when she wasn't looking. We have so many hilarious memories, a lot of them involving candy, like the Hershey bar incident, the Crunch bar incident, and the M&M incident. There was also the copy machine incident, but we won't go into that here. We've been best friends ever since, going so far as to call ourselves sisters and lie to people saying that we were. She was one of the first people I told when I came out of cupboard, so to speak, and she was usually the shoulder I went to first when life just wasn't working for me. I admit, I wasn't always the greatest friend to her. I could get pretty moody, and insulted her to her face, talked about her behind her back, and tried on every chance I got to prove myself better than her, driving her to slap me once. Hell, I deserved it, but I just couldn't bring myself to slap her back, which is probably one of the smartest things I have ever done. I'm not proud of what I've done, but I'm not afraid to stand up and admit it, because, in spite of all that, she's stuck by me, through the good times and the bad. She's never abandoned me, even when I abandoned her, and I don't deserve it but, five years later, she's still here. So Lizzy, this is for you, and it comes from the bottom of my heart: I've been a bitch to you and I'm sorry, but somewhere along the line I must have done _something _right, because we're still best friends and sisters.

Okay, after that little sob story, when I first began writing, she was the one who always read my stories. From my very first vampire story ever, written in a little journal that she had given to me with a pen to go with it, courtesy of her father, up to now, she has been a constant source of praise and criticism for me. So naturally, when I told her (because I tell her everything,) of my latest endeavor, she was immediately psyched and begged me to let her read it, despite the fact that I believed it to be stupid and my handwriting was everything close to illegible. To date, she is the first person to ever lay eyes on both my fics, even before I worked up the courage to post them. I owe her a lot, both as a writer and as a person, so that's why I rave about her all the time.

Now, about the story itself. Like a lot of writers, I believe there is a circle of Hell reserved for Marysues and the people who create them, so I wanted to start out with a really flawed character. She was already a werewolf, so that was a bonus, but the whole "monster who wishes he wasn't" theme is so hackneyed and overdone. I wanted to create a monster who literally _was_ a monster, and then use that as a subplot: with Gabriel's transformation from a bloodthirsty, killing machine to a warm, loving human being, then to a wife and mother. Also what is unique about this is the fact that she is not a man, but a woman. In the traditional Beauty and the Beast story, it's a beautiful woman who falls in love with the monster and sees the soul inside, revealing him to be the man he truly is. I'm not really sure why the monsters are always men; maybe it has something to do with the fact that men are naturally more violent and powerful than women, and therefore much easier to perceive as being capable of committing violent acts like the grisly murders that only a monster can commit. With _The Ghost Wolf,_ I wanted to change that. I wanted to move past the storybook version and create something like it, yet with a sort of weird twist. Here you have a young girl, barely on the edge of becoming a woman, in a world that expects women to be soft, quiet and docile, but she's a cold-blooded killer, who kills to feed, for the simple justification that she is taking revenge on the race that hurt her as a child. She's as much in love with her violent nature as it is with her, and has no intention of giving it up. Until, that is, she meets someone who's an outcast like her, save he is as gentle as she is fierce. I wanted a character who gives you the illusion that she's beyond all hope, and then pit her against a character who's only hope is…well, hope.

Kurt is Gabriel's salvation, if you will. He is someone who has lived a life of cruelty and torment as well, yet he feels as much for the humans as Gabriel doesn't, and in his light, she sees what she really is. A devout and pious man, he holds a strong faith that one day people will see how blind they are, and that the first step to ending that blindness is by opening your own eyes, something he illustrates to Gabriel when he tells her how he doesn't hate those who are afraid of him, while all she can do is loathe them. He shows her that life isn't about killing and vengeance, and that if that is indeed your choice, you're doomed to live in misery for the rest of your days, something Gabriel comes to realize very rapidly. He saves her soul, and later, her life, and she returns the favor not only with her love, but when she and their unborn child prove to the townspeople that their new priest isn't going to murder them in their beds. I suppose it would have been total irony if Kurt had been human, and Gabriel fell in love with a member of the very race she's vowed to destroy, but that theme is also pretty hackneyed as well, however heartwarming it may be. I guess the irony lies in the fact that Gabriel reverts back to being human, a member of said race.

Still, he has his own flaws as well. As a young teenager, he does actually resort to an act of violence in order to escape his humiliation as a circus freak, though it's not clear if he actually kills the man or not. I did that on purpose, deciding that I'd leave it up to the audience to decide for themselves if he did or didn't. So you can form your own opinion on that one. You can even tell me, if you like. Just give reasons for your conclusion. He's also a thief, stealing food to survive, his teleportation powers playing an excellent hand in that endeavor. I suppose there's always the possibility that he would be so religious that he would refuse to steal to eat and starve himself to death, but then there would be no story, and I think starving yourself is a form of suicide, and those who kill themselves can't enter the Gates of Heaven, according to the Catholic Church. So my guess is that he would probably take a few sins over eternal damnation any day. I know I would. In addition to being a thief and a possible murderer, he's also a good deal less innocent that Gabriel is in the sexual field, though fortunately for him (and for her, too!), he's able to control himself pretty well. Plus, the idea of him not being a virgin before he meets her just raises a whole bunch of awkward questions that I'm pretty sure NO one wants to think about, so I had two innocents come together at the end.

I just think it's so much cuter that way! Anyone agree? Yes? No?

_(…cricket…cricket…)_

Ooookay, moving on then.

Wait, one more thing. When I described Gabriel's first time to you, I meant every word I said. I was drawing on personal experience when I wrote that, and I'm pretty sure that's how it is for most other girls too. Ladies (because I'm pretty sure gentlemen are nonexistent on this website), it hurts! Your first time having sex will not be fun, because it's going to hurt like a bitch! I'm sure there's the odd woman or so out there who doesn't hurt, but I can tell you right now that it's excruciating. I was crying. Not sobbing, but it sure as hell wasn't daisies and butterflies. But get over it, because that's how it's supposed to happen. It'll get better with time, hopefully. I don't know; I still have yet to find that out.

Okay, _now_ we're moving on.

Aside from her obvious romantic relationship with Kurt, Gabriel has other relations with the other characters as well, the first to be established is that of Mrs. Harker. As the story progresses, they go from hissing and snapping at each other to confidents and the best of friends, not unlike a daughter's journey from early teens to adulthood, where at first she resents her mom, then she grows to love her. The two become fiercely loyal to each other, due to loneliness because they both are outcasts, and the fact that Gabriel never had a chance to have a mother, and Mrs. Harker never had a chance to become one.

Probably the second to relate to Gabriel is Dr. Jekyll because, as one of my readers so lovingly put it, she and Hyde are "like minds." Jekyll knows what it's like to lead a double life: to have a monster residing within you, though the two of them differ in one simple way: Jekyll resents the beast within, Gabriel embraces it. Of course, she sees later that this is really not the best way to be, learning to become a human being, and beginning to share Jekyll's pain as she battles the werewolf inside of her. In a far-fetched sort of way, Jekyll becomes her adopted father, in walking her down the aisle at her wedding. He looks out for her, and is probably the first of the League members to treat her with real kindness.

If Mrs. Harker and Dr. Jekyll are her adopted parents, and Kurt is her husband, then her brother definitely is Rodney Skinner. The invisible man's light humor and easy-going manner warm Gabriel's heart and actually get her to smile. However, there are occasions where you see that he is much more than a practical joker, though that seems to be his prime occupation. Sometimes, we see another side of his personality, a very kind and compassionate side as he listens to Gabriel, and even helps her out when she needs him. Given that he is sort of the immature and silly one of the group, I thought it was a nice touch at the end when I made him Captain of the _Nautilus_. It was something I had been contemplating for a while, because I had to kill Nemo off because he wasn't playing a very big part in the story, and he was just taking up space. Sorry, Nemo fans. But he died exposing a traitor and in the line of battle, the way he would have wanted to go, an honorable death for an honorable man. But then it occurred to me: what would become of the _Nautilus_? It was something I had to take into account, because I couldn't just leave it. It was too long a loose end to just leave hanging. So, after a little pondering, I came up with, (and I thought it was brilliant; I don't know about you guys), the brilliant idea to make Skinner captain of Nemo's ship. Why not? Skinner gets a chance to grow up and take on a little responsibility, and the fate of the _Nautilus_ is now solved. Tied two loose ends together, and sort of came up with a clever little twist while I was at it. I had to admit, I was thinking about a conversation I'd had with Elizabeth von Schweitzer when I came up with that idea, and I sort of did that whole thing in dedication to her. Well, I do a lot of things in dedication to her, but that is one of them. She was also the inspiration for Kitty Wagner, Kurt and Gabriel's oldest daughter, both in appearance and personality.

The rest of the League members have a mostly professional, and sort of strained relationship with Gabriel. Quatermain really just sees her as a fellow colleague, partner and League member, though there is an instant in the very beginning when Gabriel first meets the League where he shows a little bit of emotion towards her. Most of the time, however, he is closed off and pretty grouchy, though he is most often the one who keeps his head together and works through the situations. Gabriel's relationship with Van Helsing is much the same way, except with one massive difference: he is a professional assassin geared towards her kind. Though he values her importance to the League and respects her as a human being, he really views her as nothing more than a monster that needs to be vanquished. I made him pretty cold in this fic, so I apologize to the VH fans for making him a bit of a jerk, but it created some conflict, and it made the story all the more suspenseful as it raced towards the climax. Not only did we have all sorts of outside foes we needed to battle, but we had inner tensions as well, and I thought that really added to the story.

As for Karl, he starts out being terrified of her, a salute to the little monk's character in the actual Van Helsing movie, but as they get to know each other, and Gabriel begins to soften up, he loses that fear, even lending some of his robes to her and Kurt so they can stay warm, and hide their faces from the suspicious villagers. I didn't really develop their relationship too much, simply because it wasn't direly important to the story, but the general idea is that he goes from being afraid of her to not.

The main plot of _The Ghost Wolf_, obviously, is the classic good vs. evil where the good guys win, the bad guys lose, and there's a healthy amount of suspense and romance, and we lose some valued comrades along the way. Sort of your average hero story. However, like any good story should have, there are several subplots running around. The main of these is Kurt and Gabriel's relationship, which I've already covered, so I'll spare you hearing it again. There's also Gabriel's learning to grow up and stop being so violent, or stop being violent all together, save when she needs to destroy Dracula, her last stand as the werewolf. That final battle is probably what drives all the violence she has left out of her system, because after that she becomes human again, thanks to the cure that Kurt so kindly retrieves for her. I think that her transformation from werewolf to human is a metaphor of the battle, in that she goes from being hostile and bad-tempered to compassionate and caring, and her shedding of her wolf's coat, so to speak, is her letting go of her old, nasty self and preparing to step into the new role that she has to fill.

There were a couple of things I touched on but never really went into detail, like the fact that Dorian Gray is the traitor and also responsible for the death of Capt. Nemo. I suppose I could have developed that a little bit more, but I think that everyone who's seen LXG understands that he's the slimebucket, so there was really no need to waste a whole lot of time on that. However, it is important to note that the reason the vampire brides attacked the League on that specific day at that specific time was due to Gray's information. How he got it to Dracula I have no idea. Maybe Dracula has a telegraph system. Or maybe he can read Gray's mind. Either way, the vampire king, or lord, or whatever you want to call him, somehow got wind that a group of "unique" individuals was coming for him, so he stole Gray's portrait and used it as blackmail to get the immortal to give him information about the League's whereabouts, movements, and even the League members themselves, which is how he knows to take Gabriel out when they break into Castle Frankenstein. Yes, you read that right. Dracula bites Gabriel not because she's the smallest and the weakest, although I suppose that could have been part of it, but because Gray has warned him that one of the League members is a werewolf, and could kill him if he gets trapped in her jaws. So he saw to it to take her out as soon as possible, knowing that if she doesn't die of blood loss, then the virus will surely kill her. What he wasn't counting on was that Gabriel would be strong enough to survive the bite, and rise up to be his doom.

Which brings me to the point of describing Gabriel's illness during where the big carriage chase scene and the masquerade ball are supposed to take place, and I'm sure my readers are wondering why I did that. And if they aren't, then they get some inside information anyway.

I purposefully left out that entirely middle part of Van Helsing because a.) everyone knows the movie anyway, so to repeat it all back to them is just boring, and b.) because this entire story is told through the first person, and the narrator is Gabriel. We're getting the story as she sees it, and she's the one that's home sick, so that's the part of the story we hear. And as I just said, everyone knows what happens in that part of the movie, so there's no need to repeat it.

Well, none of my readers had questions for me, so that must mean that I wrote a really good story, and explained myself well. You guys didn't have to read these notes, but if you did, thank you for doing so, and again, your reviews and your support meant so much to me. This is probably the only fic of this genre I will ever write, given how busy I am with my other stories, so I'm uber sorry, but that's the way it must be. Again, thank you all for reading, and thanks especially to those who reviewed: Spaztic Arwen, Elwyndra, and my beloved Lizzy-chan. Hopefully these notes answered any questions you may have had but were afraid to ask, and good luck to everyone with their writing!

redheadvampiress 12/11/2007


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